


Ave Maria

by TheSovereigntyofReality



Series: The Holmes Estate [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Not Particularly Peggy Friendly, Not particularly Steve friendly, Team Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-12 02:19:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15329538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSovereigntyofReality/pseuds/TheSovereigntyofReality
Summary: Howard Stark meets a new secretary, Maria Collins Carbonell.





	1. Maria Collins Carbonell

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: If you recognise it from somewhere else, it isn't mine.**

‘Again, sir?’ Jarvis asked, with something like exasperation.

‘Oops?’ Howard offered with only the minimum amount of assumed repentance.

Jarvis sighed. ‘Sir, there is only a finite number of young women qualified to undertake the duties of a secretary to yourself. You cannot keep on seducing them into your rooms.’

‘Oh, so they’re all my fault?’ Howard asked with a slight pout. ‘You do realise that some of them come onto me in this very office.’

Jarvis balked. ‘You mean that I need to clean that chair?’

Howard looked down at the chair in interest. ‘You mean you don’t clean this chair?’

‘I didn’t realise you were cavorting in the chair!’ Jarvis insisted defensively, cheeks flushing.

Howard threw his head back and laughed. He stood up. ‘It’s all right, Jarvis. Geez, you need to calm down a bit. I’ve got a meeting to get to. You can clean the chair while I’m gone. Then you can look into getting me a new secretary.’ He picked up his briefcase and walked out of the office, leaving Jarvis to it.

Howard strode down the hallway of his office building and stepped into the elevator. As the lift moved, he sighed. With the Korean conflict called to an end (finally!) Howard’s number of military contracts had lessened. Many of them pertained to the conflict so, with its end, Howard was freed up to work on the sort of things he much preferred.

One of which was the results his scientific division had come up with. Once the Sarge had found out what’d happened in ’46 with Steve’s blood he’d had pretty much the same reaction as Howard’s cousins. But he’d gone one step further. Seeing as a similar serum had been used on him, the Sarge had rolled up his sleeve and given Howard a blood sample.

Dr. Shields was the head doctor commissioned for the experiments with the blood. He’d picked out various other doctors he knew from work and various medical conferences that would have the expertise and the interest in curing the diseases to work on the project. Howard had received a lot of criticism, mostly from his business associates and board members, on the extremity of his security measures around the project. They all insisted it was overkill. Howard spoke to Shields about it.

‘More like _under_ -kill,’ Dr. Shields said. ‘Sure, it’s the best technology you can come up with, but this is the most coveted thing in the world right now, if it was publically known about. Super-soldier blood is so rare, it would fetch a mint on the black market. If anyone’s calling your security overkill, either they severely underestimate how valuable the blood is or they want to get their hands on it themselves and the security measures make it impossible.’

With that statement, Howard dismissed the issue from his mind. Dr. Shields was right. Already three lab assistants were on the watch list because of things they done or said which left Shields with the feeling they’d like to walk off with the blood, and one man had been fired because he’d tried to pocket the vial of blood and walk out with it.

The lift opened and Howard walked out.

Immediately, the women in the office turned their attention towards him as he walked through. Howard watched, in his peripheral vision, as several women fluffed their hair, checked themselves, changed the positioning of their clothes on their bodies, or shifted their sitting positions. Women practically threw themselves at his feet.

Just once he’d like to meet a woman he had to _work_ for.

***

Jarvis slipped his spectacles on as he went through the relevant paperwork.

The woman was certainly qualified. She’d been recommended by a colleague. Miss Frasier had been very...enthusiastic upon the recommendation of the young blonde lady before him. She was young, certainly. He’d place the girl in her early twenties. A quick glance at the data in front of him told Jarvis that she was, in actual fact, just 21 years old. The information made Jarvis cringe. She was young enough to be naive and gullible but old enough for Mr. Stark to justify it if he did take her to bed.

Unfortunately, the final decision was not up to Jarvis. He was only Mr. Stark’s butler. He handled his home and estates. His business, on the other hand, was someone else’s responsibility. Miss Maria Collins Carbonell was hired due to her impressive work record – the sort of precision and efficiency generally seen in one of middle age or late middle age.

So Jarvis ended up leading her through the Stark Mansion to Mr. Stark’s home office. He knocked on the door and led her in. ‘Your new secretary, sir.’ He handed Mr. Stark the papers.

Mr. Stark looked at the papers first – Jarvis knew he’d oogle her in a moment. ‘Maria Collins Carbonell.’ He lifted his eyes and gave her a smile – the kind of smile he generally reserved for women he found particularly attractive. ‘Two last names? Mind if I ask why that came about?’

‘Oh,’ Miss Carbonell said. ‘I was originally born Maria Collins, but my parents died in a car accident when I was a young child. I was adopted by a couple called the Carbonells. They were good enough to me that I felt comfortable taking on their name on top of my birth name.’

‘I see.’ Howard looked her over with a wry grin – more of a leer actually. ‘Well, I suppose we could start with a shoulder rub.’

Far from looking uncomfortable, Miss Carbonell just about smirked. ‘I don’t believe that’s in my contract, Mr. Stark.’

‘I could put it in your contract.’

‘I could always resign.’

Mr. Stark chuckled and said to Jarvis, ‘I like her.’

There was something in his tone – something Jarvis hadn’t heard for a while.

Had Miss Carbonell truly earned Mr. Stark’s respect in the space of thirty seconds?

***

‘I thought you didn’t like her.’

Karen Frasier was sitting in the diner with her friend, Deidre Hawkins. They were talking about Maria Collins Carbonell, of course. Maria had been the bane of Karen’s working life. She was over ten years younger than Karen and hadn’t been at Stark Industries long at all, yet she had already been promoted much faster than Karen was and was already in an equal position in the company as Karen herself.

‘I don’t,’ Karen said. ‘She’s a pretty little doll who got up to where she is by her looks alone. She knows nothing of hard work and I’m the only one who seems to realise it.’

‘So why did you recommend her to be your boss’s personal secretary?’ Deidre asked.

‘Because Mr. Stark cavorts with every secretary he has.’ Karen’s eyes glinted in amusement. ‘They always leave afterwards, ruined by a womaniser who only cares how many notches he has in his bedpost.’

Deidre leaned back slightly. ‘She’s just a girl.’

‘She’s a little toad,’ Karen said. ‘I’ll be glad to be rid of her.’

This was the last time Deidre would meet with Karen; the last time she would call her “friend”.

Within the next few weeks, Karen would find her friends rapidly decrease in number.

(In ten years or so, she would be considered a laughing stock amongst those people.)

***

Mr. Stark, Maria mused, was not so bad to work with. He took his responsibilities seriously, he was usually one step ahead of both herself and Mr. Jarvis, and he had, after all, built this company from the ground up. That was no small feat. Maria had found she didn’t even mind the consistent flirting. That was just his way. He had a playful personality and he enjoyed the company of ladies.

Right now, for instance, he was drifting through a crowd of women, who were smiling and giggling as he interacted with them. Maria didn’t know why, but she’d never been quite so silly. Howard Stark’s reputation was well-known, and the sheer number of women coupled with the lack of other men should have been a dead giveaway. Pure childish naivety, in Maria’s mind. The millionaire wasn’t going to change because one woman happened to be particularly pretty or particularly talented under the sheets.

Mr. Jarvis came to her side and began reloading his tray with champagne glasses. ‘I don’t imagine this environment is particularly enthralling for you,’ he said.

‘We have our duties to perform,’ Maria stated. ‘If that means standing around with a group of fools, then so be it.’

Mr. Jarvis looked up at her curiously. ‘Fools?’

Maria gave him a wry smile. ‘Do you really suppose there are so many loose women in one spot? Of course not.’

‘Then how do you explain...?’ He gestured around.

Maria smiled. Edwin Jarvis was an English gentleman. There were a lot of things he either didn’t understand (because he was not exposed to them often) or that he oversimplified.  
‘It’s a nesting thing. We women are primarily attracted to two things: looks and stability.’ This was something her step-mother had told her long ago. ‘Good-looking men are more likely to produce healthy offspring. Stability,’ she gestured to their boss, ‘in this case, extreme wealth ensures that such children are sufficiently provided for. Like I said, it’s a nesting thing.’

‘Miss Carbonell!’ Mr. Stark called.

Maria walked through the crowd, pointedly ignoring all of them. Her step-father had told her that people were small-minded and thus easy to manoeuvre around if you only knew how. It was something she had never forgotten; something she had honed into an art form. Now, she overheard one of the women (prospective conquests) speak to her friend (another prospective conquest). She was sure it was either not meant to be heard or meant to be heard and expected to be ignored.

‘You’re joking, right? That little girl?’

Maria turned her eyes to the woman and said demurely, ‘I’m quite sure your mother would have taught you better manners than that, miss.’

The woman balked. The women around her giggled. When Maria turned her attention back to her employer, she saw a strange, almost admiring look on his face. She ignored it.  
‘Yes, Mr. Stark?’

‘There’s a contract on my desk,’ Mr. Stark said, sounding particularly amused. ‘I’ve already read it, but it never hurts to have a second pair of eyes look over it.’

Maria nodded. ‘Of course.’ She turned and walked back into the mansion.

***

Howard sat by the window the following morning, reading a Life magazine out of sheer boredom.

He’d taken that same woman who Maria had lightly reprimanded to bed last night. Partially it was because any woman would do. The excitement he used to get from his conquests had faded out. Last night, he even found himself thinking of schematics while he certainly should have been far too distracted for such thoughts.

The second reason was that there was something...unspeakably exciting about watching Maria reprimand someone by pointing out their bad manners. She was well-suited to the business world where one had to operate with anyone who it would be advantageous to work with, even if one hated their guts. So, Howard wanted to give that other woman the pleasure of knowing exactly where she stood compared to “that little girl”.

Maria, over the past few weeks, had taken over Jarvis’s job of...escorting Howard’s conquests out of the mansion. It turned out this went down a lot better than some man doing it. Men, it turned out, were viewed as accomplices. Women, on the other hand, were seen as just doing their jobs.

It’d confused the hell out of Jarvis.

Howard was hardly surprised to find gender-based prejudice was not strictly limited from men to women.

It made sense that just as men had ideas about women, women had ideas about men.

Either way, Jarvis was glad that he was no longer getting slapped in the face. Maria had the pleasure of escorting out a woman who had dismissed her only to learn that she was the one easily dismissed while “that little girl” was staying firmly in Howard Stark’s life. She was the best damn secretary he’d ever had and had a much better grasp on the business than any of her predecessors, despite being the youngest of them all.

Howard looked up from his magazine as there was a light knock at the door and that willowy blonde beauty walked in. At first glance, she hadn’t seemed like much but she had a kind of power to her that even seemed beyond Peggy Carter’s reach. She was self-respecting, conscientious of the world she worked in (and of his reputation), and so efficient he’d have made her a junior partner if she was a man.

Times like this he could _really_ see where Peg had been coming from.

Regardless, he liked her being around. ‘What do you think?’

‘It seems beneficial to the company,’ Maria said. ‘Especially considering the direction you want to take it.’ She gave him a light smile and something inside him coiled (God knew why). ‘Will that be all, Mr. Stark?’

‘That will be all, Miss Carbonell.’


	2. The Springfield Rifles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard finds himself having to contend with underhanded business rivals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the moment, Howard's only attracted to Maria.
> 
> I personally don't believe in love at first sight and I think even Tony and Pepper took a while to fall in love.

**Manhattan, NY, 1953**  
Howard sat in front of a set of plans.

These weren’t engineering blueprints, though. These were house plans. Tony had been four in the vision. In 1947, it’d been 27 years. Now, it was 21. Howard didn’t know where that time had gone. Take away those four years and he had 17 years. 17 years in which to perfect the environment in which little Tony Stark would grow up in. The first thing, naturally enough, was to build it.

Of course, he wasn’t sharing this with anyone. It would be rather difficult to explain to someone else why he was building a mansion with a tall brick fence surrounding the perimeter, a nursery on the third floor, and two workshops in the basement – one of which was clearly geared towards a young child.

The problem was he knew when Tony would be born (roughly) but not who his mother was. Sure, he knew her name but that didn’t help. Maria was a very common name. His secretary (who was fantastic, by the way!) was called Maria, but so were about three women in the administration, four women who worked reception, and two women on the cleaning crew. The only other clue he had was that she was fair-haired, and that covered half of them – not to mention the women whose names he didn’t know.

And that was just in his company!

That was not even mentioning the Marias he hadn’t met yet.

But Howard would go crazy if he focused on that so, instead, he focused more on Tony.

He’d failed the boy in the other timeline; he’d be damned if he did it again.

***

 **Springfield, Massachusetts**  
The door to the head office opened. ‘Sir.’

‘Ah, Mr. Ray. Do come in. Take a seat.’

‘You wanted to see me, Mr. Reece?’ Mitchell Ray walked into the office and sat down in the chair.

‘Yes.’ Mr. Reece passed a report over to him. ‘What do you make of this?’

Mitchell took the folder and opened it. ‘Stark Industries? Aren’t they relatively new?’

‘And already outstripping us by a mile.’ There was a displeased scowl on Mr. Reece’s face. ‘Howard Stark came out of nowhere and now he’s the preferred manufacturer for all branches of the military. Army, navy, air force, intelligence, it doesn’t matter. They all want his weapons. It’s costing us millions – which are going straight into his pocket.’

Mitchell frowned. ‘When did we notice this?’

‘During the Korean conflict,’ Mr. Reece said. ‘I didn’t do anything then because we were still making a sizeable profit, just not as impressive as we’re accustomed to. At first, I presumed there was someone pocketing some of the profits. It was only after the war that the military released the sales records compared with other companies that I realised.’

‘They withheld them?’

‘I presume they were concerned about manufacturing rivalries. This isn’t the War, you know.’

‘You want me to shut him down, then?’

‘If it comes to that. I want him out of the way. I want his company compromised, I want him gone, I want him bankrupt.’ Mr. Reece’s eyes narrowed. ‘At this rate, he’ll replace us in 20 years or so.’

‘Consider it done, sir.’

***

 **Manhattan, New York**  
When Maria had come to the seat of Mr. Stark’s personal secretary, she had gone over everything she would need to know for the position. That had led her to seeing room for improvement in the screening process for the hiring process. A company such as Stark Industries was bound to be a prime target for corporate moles, especially given how new and successful it was. Other companies – especially the long-standing ones – were bound to feel threatened.

Mr. Stark had looked over her work when she proposed the improvements to him, eyebrows raised. At first, she’d been concerned. Then he’d said, ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of this.’

The door to the office opened and one of the men from accounting came in. ‘Miss Carbonell, these need to be filed and put through the system before the end of the day.’

Maria took the files and sat down. This kind of attitude was not unusual and she had never allowed herself to be bothered by it. It was just the way people had been raised to think. If she got herself into a fit over being treated like she was less capable than the men around her, she’d never have a moment’s peace ever again in her life.

Besides, at the end of the day, who did it hurt?

Maria sat down and began working through the numbers. She didn’t understand how some people had problems with math. It was the basis of all building blocks in the universe. In her own world, it was the basis of the rhythm of the music she so often liked to surround herself with. There was no musical instrument she hadn’t picked up or put her hand to that she wasn’t willing to try. Producing music with them was easy because they all worked on the same mathematical principles.

Business was very much the same.

Rhythm.

But then the rhythm was interrupted.

Maria stopped and stared at the page. Her eyes narrowed at the discrepancy. Standing up, she strode out of the office. There were other files she needed to cross-reference. As the boss’s personal secretary, there wasn’t a corner in Stark Industries she wasn’t permitted to, though she’d only been working in this position for two months. She had heard the odd remark of so that such a level of clearance was unusual to see, especially in so short a time.

Still, Maria was going to use it now. She pulled the set of keys Mr. Stark had given her and opened the door to one of the archive rooms. Walking in, she moved around to quickly retrieve the appropriate files. Once she had them, she returned to her boss’s office. It was just about time to clock off and go home. She left him a quick memo and then went home to finish this from the comfort of her new high-rise apartment.

***

Howard walking into his office to grab his stuff before he went home.

There was a memo on the right hand corner in Maria’s handwriting. He picked it up and read it. _There was a discrepancy in finances, Mr. Stark. I’m cross-referencing tonight. I’ll let you know in the morning. Miss Carbonell._

Howard nodded to himself and pocketed the memo.

***

Henry Jameson walked into the office of his superior.

Mr. Matteson looked up as he came in. ‘Ah, Jameson. Please, sit.’

Jameson did as instructed. He had to do his best not to draw attention to himself. He had a job in this company and, if he were successful, it would mean a favourable bonus. That meant he had to get this done and get it done unnoticed. He watched Mr. Matteson read over some sort of paperwork for a moment before he lifted his head. ‘Do you know what this is, Mr. Jameson?’ he asked, handing a few sheets of paper over.

Jameson took them and flicked through them.

Oh. Shit.

The door behind him opened and Mr. Matteson stood up. ‘This company does not tolerate the misappropriation of their funds, Mr. Jameson.’

As the two police officers hauled him up and handcuffed him, Jameson knew he could kiss that bonus goodbye.

Mr. Ray would not be happy at all.

***

Howard was giving Maria a raise.

No question about it. The knock at the door had Howard lift his head from the data in front of him. David Matteson walked in, a folder tucked under his arm and looking like he’d rather be anywhere but where he was. Howard stood up and grabbed the pitcher. He poured the other man a drink and handed it to him. The head of accounting sighed gratefully.

‘Thank you, Mr. Stark.’ He sat down. ‘Jameson is fired and in police custody.’

‘Good,’ Howard said, pouring himself a drink and re-taking his seat.

‘How did you find out he was doing it, anyway?’

‘Miss Carbonell called my attention to it,’ Howard said.

Mr. Matteson’s eyebrows lifted. ‘The secretary noticed?’

Sometimes it made Howard want to bash his head against a wall, this casual dismissal of perfectly capable women. But he could accept that the majority of society had been conditioned to believe that women really were helpless without men around to protect them. It was easier to just say what he did. ‘Well, what do I pay her for?’

Mr. Matteson nodded in acquiescence. ‘You know, when she does find herself a husband, she’s going to make someone a fine wife.’

Cultural conditioning, Howard reminded himself. ‘Right. Now, how’s the accounting for the French business trip coming along?’

‘Very well, sir.’ Mr. Matteson handed over the folder. ‘Seeing as you wanted to bring Miss Carbonell along we’ve booked a hotel room for her as well. There will be five other men   
coming along with you so...’ Matteson was just clearly glad to get out of talking about their fraud and move onto business.

***

 **Springfield, Massachusetts**  
Mitchell Ray paced, the cigar in his mouth likely had enough bite marks on it that he was about to bite it in half. First, a handful of men had been stopped at Stark’s screening process. One of the two men who did get in not only didn’t have anything useful to report (turned out Stark did his most productive work in the comfort of his own home and then brought the finished product to the company, followed by a strict set of manufacturing guidelines) but the guy who was meant to be screwing up their numbers so they lost profits was caught in a few short days.

‘I hope,’ Ray said to the man reporting it. ‘That I won’t be required to come and do the work myself?’

‘No, sir,’ his subordinate responded. ‘Alexander Payton is a professional.’

***

 **Manhattan, NY**  
Alexander Payton opened the door, entering the weapons lab and moving to the newest project.

While it was true that Howard Stark developed his most ground-breaking innovations in the comfort of his own home, he also gave his engineers breathing room and allowed them to see if they could improve on his designs. He evidently liked tinkering but he also liked to see what his underlings were capable of.

If it wasn’t known that he’d made his fortune, he’d give it away in an instant. He was too soft.

There would be tests on a new bomb in a few days.

By the time Payton was done, there would be nothing but a crater in the ground and a heck of a lot of compensation for Howard Stark to shell out.

***

Howard sat back with his coffee.

There was a new bomb being prepared. He wanted to take a look at it before they headed off on the business trip in a few days. While he was trying to work his way out of the weapons business, he still had contracts to uphold until they ran out. The least he could do with that was make sure the equipment was as good as it could be.

There was a knock at his door and Miss Carbonell walked in. ‘Are you busy, Mr. Stark?’

‘No.’ Howard checked his watch. ‘Not for another five minutes, at least. Is something wrong?’

Miss Carbonell looked down at the files in her hand. ‘I’m not sure...But I think some of these have been falsified.’ She handed them to him over the top of the desk.

Howard set his coffee down and took the file from his secretary. As he took note of what it was and flipped it open, he almost smiled to himself. Engineering was not Maria’s field of study. If you showed her an engine, all she’d be able to positively identify would be the battery. But she knew business like the back of her hand.

Where Howard was foremost an engineer, Maria was foremost a businesswoman.

She knew she had to learn how to operate in the highest offices of a manufacturing company, so she was constantly educating herself on the matter. It was more than any of his former secretaries had ever done. They’d viewed their job as something straightforward and had only been interested in one thing.

But she was right – again.

‘You know I should stop letting you find these things,’ Howard said. ‘It’s making me look silly.’

Maria cracked a wry smile. ‘How so? No one knows I’m the one pointing it out to you. As far as they’re concerned, you’re just the genius noticing moles in your company and I’d really prefer to keep it that way.’

Howard cracked a grin at her. ‘You’re not much of a lobbyist for women’s rights then?’

‘I’m agreeable to people fighting for them,’ Maria said. ‘For instance, the suffragettes had a point in stating that they should be able to vote seeing as they worked and payed taxes alongside the men who could vote. They weren’t being listened to, so they had to force attention onto themselves. I think a few of them went over the line, but I understand where they were coming from. There are still some causes I agree need to be fought for, such as equal wages and property rights, but at the rate a lot of those lobbyists are going, they’re going to end up throwing the baby out with the bathwater. And it won’t just affect them, it’ll affect all of us. We women have certain privileges. At this rate, we’re going to lose them. So, no. I think with some things we should just let sleeping dogs lie.’

Howard considered that. She had a point. Peg could be counted as a strong advocate of womens’ rights. When was the last time a man had stood up for her, or held the door open for her? To Howard’s memory, even Jarvis hadn’t done that. Peg insisted on being treated like a man – so she was.

Yet Maria had realised that without even experiencing it. ‘Fair point,’ Howard said. ‘At this rate, though, you’re gonna get so many bonuses you’ll be able to retire.’

‘I’m just doing my job, Mr. Stark. Will that be all?’

‘That will be all, Miss Carbonell.’

***

Payton had been sneaking in every night, at the point when security on the factory was at its most lax. This time, though, he slipped in and turned around...only to find himself surrounded by armed guards. Reflexively, his hands went up. His eyes darted around. He quickly spotted Howard Stark.

The CEO was out of his business suit and in what appeared to be casual clothes as he worked on the bomb that Payton had been sabotaging for the past couple of days. He didn’t even look up as he addressed the Springfield engineer. ‘I’m an engineer myself, Mr. Payton. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you stuffing around with a bomb?’ Now he did look at him, glaring darkly. ‘Did you even care about the sheer number of people you would have killed and injured with this little stunt?’

Payton ground his teeth and took a step forward. One of the guards slammed the butt of his rifle into Payton’s gut. With a grunt of pain, he fell forward. The security guards hauled him up and forcefully dragged him out of the labs. Well, he knew what was next. No explosion so Stark wouldn’t suddenly have to make the biggest pay-out in American history.

Mr. Ray would not be happy.

***

 **Springfield, Massachusetts**  
Mitchell Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘All right. Fine. If I must, I must.’ He stood up. ‘Where is the file of the information we managed to gather?’

A clipboard was handed to him. ‘I’m afraid it’s not much, sir. The information that leaves the higher offices of Stark Industries is very tightly controlled.’

‘No matter,’ Mr. Ray said. ‘We have enough information here.’

***

 **Manhattan, NY**  
Maria sighed in exasperation as Howard chattered on. He was hard to follow, but she thought she was sort of getting the hang of it. Besides, he was a genius. Their brains worked completely differently from the average person. It was perfectly understandable that he seemed mad to the people around him.

Howard seemed to have fully embraced it – probably because he knew people knew he wasn’t legitimately mad.

The plane was quite different from a commercial flight – as it should be. Maria was able to sit back in a seat, with lots of elbow room, and occupy herself with work as her boss sat opposite her and, first, cracked open the on board alcohol – some sort of Japanese drink – and begin tinkering as they flew through the air. The other men began their own work.

After about 20 minutes, she presumed he must’ve gotten bored, because he struck up a conversation with her. ‘So...where’d you grow up?’

Maria looked up at him. ‘You’re serious?’

Howard shrugged. ‘Come on, we’re always talking work! We need to talk about some other things too. I mean, I know your biological parents died and you got adopted. Big move?’

‘Sort of.’ Maria paused, thinking back from moving from a regular American suburb, into that overcrowded orphanage, and then into that small Italian community. She hadn’t cared who she was adopted by – just as long as she’d gotten out of the squalor. The orphanage staff had been overworked, overtired, and wanted to adopt off as many children as they could. Despite political tensions of the time, they adopted the children out to Japanese families, to German families, to Italian families – to any families who wanted the children.

Maria went to what was known as a “mixed family”. Her step-mother, who she spent most of her time with (outside of school), was Italian. Her step-father, who had spent most of his time at work, was Spanish. She wasn’t sure about the heritage of her biological parents – mostly because she’d been a few months away from turning six when they’d died. He adoptive parents had approved of her training to become a secretary, her step-father making the remark that it would support her very well if they died before she found herself a husband.

Unfortunately, they had.

And it did.

‘What about you?’ Maria asked, wishing to change the subject. ‘Where did you grow up?’

‘Oh,’ Howard shrugged. ‘In one of the, er, smaller districts of New York. My folks immigrated before I was born.’

Oh, right. Howard Stark had made his own fortune. He got to where he was today from hard work and his formidable intelligence. She wondered about his parents. But she wasn’t game to tell him about hers so he shouldn’t be expected to tell her about his. Maria watched as he went to say something else, but he paused. His eyes narrowed and he looked out the plane window.

‘Is something wrong?’ Maria asked.

‘Air pressure just changed,’ Howard said. He stood up. ‘Hold on.’

Maria set her own work aside. She noticed the others in plane suddenly looking worried. Howard walked towards the cockpit. Maria stood up as he opened the door, and stopped. Howard’s face did this twist-and-scowl thing. ‘Uh huh.’ He raised his hands and backed up. ‘And you are?’

A man walked out of the cockpit, a gun in hand and aimed directly at Howard. Maria quickly glanced around. The rest of the men in the plane quickly backed up. Maria didn’t recognise him but she supposed he must’ve been flying the plane. How else could he be on board? If he stowed away, he’d have had to pass through the area where they were all sitting to get to the cockpit. He can’t have hidden in the bathroom either – that was behind them.

The man backed Howard up so that he was standing directly in front of all the others.

The man smirked. ‘Well, it isn’t like you’ll live to tell anyone. I am Mitchell Ray. You’ve been causing my employers quite a bit of trouble, Mr. Stark.’

‘What does that mean?’ one of the other men asked – Joseph Grant, if Maria recalled correctly.

‘One of our business rivals sent him.’ Howard didn’t even hesitate in answering.

‘Correct,’ Ray said. He began circling. ‘My job is to ensure that you stop taking our clientele. Seeing as...’ As he went on, Maria noticed that he was paying absolutely no attention to her. Her step-mother’s words rang in her head.

_‘You’re a woman, Maria. You’re easily dismissed, but that isn’t the worst thing in the world. By being the fly on the wall, you can be the most influential person in the room.’_

And, here and now, Maria was...perhaps not the most influential person in the room (plane) – that would be Howard. No, but she did have an ability here that the other men lacked. She was being completely ignored by Ray on the grounds that she was a woman. As she slipped over to the tool pouch Howard had been using, she kept an eye on Ray. He seemed to have a flair for the dramatic. He was monologuing like a villain in a comic book even as he opened the safety hatch and fetched a parachute, keeping his eyes and gun trained on Howard and the other men.

It was incredibly corny.

The only person who had eyes on her as she drew out the biggest wrench in Howard’s collection of tools was Howard himself. The wrench had a good weight to it. It would definitely knock him out. Unfortunately, she wasn’t completely sure when she hit him with it that the gun in Ray’s hand wouldn’t misfire.

She hated to do what she was planning to do. Violence was something she viewed as a last resort. It was something you fell back on when nothing else worked. And her personal opinion was that if it came to that, you were stuffed anyway. You might as well go with a bang rather than a whimper. But it was clear, in this situation, there was little else to do.

‘Okay, okay,’ Howard said with an air of exasperation. ‘I get it. You want me out of business or, failing that, dead because your former customers prefer my stuff over yours. It’s called business.’

Ray may have smirked – Maria couldn’t tell because she was behind him – because the other men in front of him flinched back. He then moved towards the door. Maria knew she had to act now. If he took another step, he’d be too far for her to get to him before he got to the door. She pulled the wrench back and swung it. In the same instant, Howard ducked to the side and grabbed the other man’s hand. Before the wrench made contact, Howard had the gun aimed at one of the plush chairs.

The wrench hit Ray in the head.

_BANG!_

The men yelped. A bullet hole was punched into the chair as the shooter dropped like a stone. Howard spun the unconscious man around and guided his fall down to the carpet.   
‘Find anything you can,’ he told the other men. ‘Tie him up, then radio the authorities. I’m gonna bring this bird in for a landing.’

‘You can pilot it, Mr. Stark?’ Maria asked.

‘Learned before the war.’ Howard ducked into the cockpit.

As the five men grabbed what they could and tied Ray up, Maria followed Howard into the cockpit. There were so many switches and levers, she stopped in the doorway. She wasn’t game to touch anything. Howard, on the other hand, clearly knew what he was doing. He climbed into the pilot’s seat and immediately pulled on the headgear.

‘Does this happen often?’ Maria asked as he started manipulating the controls.

‘Not too often.’ Howard answered her without even turning his head. ‘They very rarely go quite so far. Gotta say, you handled it pretty well. The guys back there will be wondering how you managed it.’

Maria huffed. ‘The biases against women mean that we’re never expected to do anything productive in a crisis. We’re really just expected to cower back and whimper.’

‘Not really your style?’

‘Well, what good would that do? He’d have gotten away if I had.’

‘Yeah.’ Howard looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. ‘I guess this means I won’t have to worry about you then.’

Maria gave a proud smile. ‘I’m low maintenance.’

***

 **Brest, France**  
Maria stood with Howard as they all waited outside the interrogation room.

‘A woman?’ the French officer asked.

‘Family quirk,’ Howard said. ‘They all pay so much attention to detail that they’re the best at deductive reasoning in the world. That, and he still has no idea that he was knocked out by a woman. She’ll make him drop his guard and say things he wouldn’t ordinarily.’

The officer nodded in acquiescence.

The door opened. Harper Holmes, Howard’s second cousin, stepped out of the interrogation room. ‘Springfield rifles,’ she said. ‘You’ll find that Mr. Ray, Mr. Jameson, and Mr. Payton were all payed by them through a dummy company called Gainsborough Incorporated.’

Seemed the whole family had genius-level intelligence.

‘Right.’ Howard nodded and turned. ‘Telephone please.’

‘Who are you calling?’ Maria asked. ‘Your lawyers, I hope.’

‘Yup.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this, I realised my maths in _A Christmas Carol_ was wrong, so I went back and fixed it.
> 
> I looked on google maps and I saw that the drive from Springfield to Manhattan is a little over 2 hours, so it is feasible that Mitchell Ray could get on the plane in such a short amount of time.
> 
> The Springfield Armoury was an actual company (though I couldn't find any information as to whether it was actually called that back then). From 1777 until 1968, it was the primary centre for manufacturing US military firearms. It's now a historic site.
> 
> If anyone's having doubts on Ray's first name, I did look it up. The name "Mitchell", while more modern-sounding, did exist in the US in the 1950s. It wasn't common, but it was gaining popularity according to the BehindtheName website.
> 
> The expression "throw the baby out with the bathwater" is something my grandmother says about the feminist movement. I made it so Maria has pretty much the same opinion on the matter as my grandmother does. X)


	3. Money, Money, Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Maria find themselves having to deal with an embezzler in the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard had started falling in love with Maria at this point, but he just doesn't realise it. ;)

**Manhattan, NY, 1954**  
Maria Collins Carbonell had been working for Howard Stark for about a year now.

She had to admit, he had grown on her rather quickly. He was a notorious womaniser, yes, but he was also one of the few men who actually would respect a woman. His respect was not based on the fact that she was a lady. It was based on her own sense of self-respect. Maria knew that most women around him either wanted to get laid, had their eyes on his fortune, viewed him as a good prospective husband due to his looks and wealth, or were caught up in fantasies of breaking him of his ways and having him fall in love with them.

Regardless, they were all easy for him to coax into his bed.

Maria was another kettle of fish. She was aware of the fact that any night of passion with him would just be a one-night thing. He probably would take responsibility if he got a woman in trouble, but he was far too careful for that. She had cleared out his “entertaining room” more than enough to know that he always had a drawer full of rubbers – good quality ones too.

Already, Maria had dealt with three fake-out pregnancies. Howard, she knew, adored her for dealing with it for him. Because he always had to before, due to the fact that Jarvis was such a naive chap. The first time it’d happened, Howard had told her, he’d actually believed it. Then, Maria had no doubt, he’d have been shocked to discover the woman either wasn’t pregnant at all or she was pregnant by another person – it was always one or the other.

Maria looked up as the door to the outer office opened.

‘Miss Carbonell.’ Charles Anderson walked into the office with a set of papers. ‘I need to deliver these to Mr. Stark immediately.’

‘Mr. Stark is currently busy.’ Maria stood up, preparing for the upcoming confrontation. Mr. Anderson was a tall and thickly-built man. As a result, he seemed to view his size as an advantage. Sure enough, he strode in and headed right for Mr. Stark’s office door, where the man in question had specifically requested not to be disturbed by anything.

‘I’m afraid this takes precedence,’ he said as he strode over.

Maria had dealt with others like this though, so she simply stood up and got in his way. ‘Mr. Stark gave specific instructions not to be bothered, Mr. Anderson.’

Mr. Anderson just about sneered and reached for her.

‘You wouldn’t push a lady, would you?’ Maria asked. ‘That would be quite rude.’

Mr. Anderson froze. ‘Miss Carbonell, this data needs to get to Mr. Stark immediately. I can hardly expect you to understand but he will!’

‘When Mr. Stark says not to be interrupted, Mr. Anderson, he means it. He is focusing on something else at present and he will be extremely upset if he is interrupted now. You wouldn’t want to risk your job for whatever is in your hands now, would you?’ Because Maria knew for a fact that Mr. Anderson was very fond of the quantity on the pay-check Howard signed for him every week. Of course, working as Chief Financial Officer did tend to give you a decent salary.

Mr. Anderson froze.

Maria held her hand out. ‘So, might I suggest you perform your duties and allow me to perform mine?’

With an almost constipated expression on his face, Mr. Anderson shoved the files into her hand and stormed out of the outer office. Maria sighed and returned to her desk. Such men were not uncommon in these offices. Women such as herself were considered to be only working until such a time when they became some man’s wife. It had been this way for countless centuries and only recently did women start making a fuss about it. Sure, they had some good points but Maria thought they were rather underestimating the importance of the role society had placed upon them: teaching children how to be compassionate and helpful members of society was one of the most important things in the world.

Maria opened the file and began working on it. It could have been her imagination but it didn’t seem as dire as Mr. Anderson had seemed to insist. It was the financial report and a few extra expenses. Beyond that, it seemed to be nothing overly important. There were no great losses. Maria started work on trying to find out what was so very important.

***

Charles Anderson stormed down to his own office.

Truth be told, he shouldn’t have let that woman get the best of him. At least no one else saw it happen, though. He’d never live down the shame. Howard’s secretary hadn’t let him get in and plant the idea in Howard’s head. With what had happened last year, he didn’t imagine he’d go unnoticed for very long.

As such, he had to make Stark think he was totally trustworthy; that _he_ would never do such a thing.

***

Howard sat back from his desk with a heavy sigh.

He stretched up and yawned. With this little annoyance out of the way, he could finally get up and stretch his legs. His muscles were feeling a bit cramped. Pushing his chair back, he just about hopped up to his feet. Shaking out his legs, Howard strolled out of his office. He was going to wander down to accounting to, as Maria said, “harass” some pretty girl, but as he stepped out of his office he saw Maria at her desk. She was staring at some papers in front of her, brow furrowed in confusion.

Howard walked over and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Poor woman nearly jumped out of her skin. She swivelled her head. ‘Mr. Stark, don’t do that!’

Howard chuckled. ‘What’s the matter?’

Maria took a deep breath, most likely to calm herself. ‘Mr. Anderson dropped these off. He wanted to give them to you directly, and insisted it was urgent, but you’d asked not to be disturbed. I had to goad him into leaving you alone.’

‘Had to goad him into leaving me alone?’ Howard smirked. He shook his head. ‘So what’s the big deal?’

‘That’s just it,’ Maria said. ‘I can’t see anything that would warrant any sort of special attention.’ She snapped the file closed and held it up. ‘All I can see is some points on it where it looks like someone’s tried to mimic typewriter numbers by hand.’

‘Let’s see.’ Howard took the file and opened it.

As he read over it, his eyes narrowed.

Maria must have been able to read his expression. ‘I take it you see something I didn’t?’

‘Someone’s been helping themselves to our profits,’ Howard said. ‘They’ve tried to cover it up by whiting out and writing over what they erased – you’re right; someone definitely tried to mimic typewriter numbers.’

‘Should I call the police?’

‘Not yet. We’ll work out who is responsible first.’

***

Jarvis walked into the living room to a most bizarre sight.

Mr. Stark sat on the couch with his tie tossed over the back of the couch and having changed into casual clothes as he worked. Miss Carbonell worked from the other end of the couch. She’d kicked her shoes off and tucked her feet under her as she tackled the same problem that their employer did. They were separated by and surrounded with countless pages of financial reports.

Jarvis decided to ignore it – as he had ignored the look on Palmer Holmes’s face the last time he’d been around and he’d seen those two – and handed Mr. Stark what he’d asked for. ‘The contracts of the entire financial department, sir.’

‘Thank you, Jarvis.’ He set aside what he was looking at and took the files. ‘Hey, Maria,’ he surprised Jarvis by using Miss Carbonell’s given name, ‘will you hand me that sheet?’

She didn’t blink at it and seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. She leaned over and picked up a sheet in particular from the coffee table before handing it over to him. Mr. Stark then pulled the contracts out of the folder and handed half to Miss Carbonell.

‘May I ask why you wanted the contracts, sir?’ Jarvis asked.

‘Handwriting samples,’ Mr. Stark said and offered no further explanation.

Miss Carbonell just smiled and kept working.

Jarvis sighed. ‘Your usual then?’

Mr. Stark just nodded.

Miss Carbonell, at least, remembered her manners. ‘Thank you.’

***

Maria wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep.

She was next aware of the scent of Howard’s cologne a lot closer than she was used to. Then she realised her head was resting on his shoulder and his arms cradled her as he carried her through his house. She was too tired to be overly alarmed at the fact that the womaniser was carrying her through his house.

Then she felt herself laid down. He pulled away and a blanket was thrown over her a moment later. For a second there was nothing, and then there was a sigh. ‘I keep forgetting that I keep irregular hours – especially when I’m working on something. I should have sent you home hours ago.’

Maria heard his footfalls leave and the door close.

The whole thing was like a strange dream to Maria. When she woke up properly the next morning, though, she was still in the bed and had the blanket thrown over her. She’d moved from the couch to one of the guest bedrooms. Judging from the two portraits of Howard that were in the room, she was certain she was in the second floor east guest bedroom.

Pushing back the blanket, Maria rolled off of the bed and went over to the mirror. She took a moment to straighten herself out and not look like she just rolled out of bed. That done, Maria got up and walked back downstairs to the living room. Howard seemed to have packed up and moved everything. Taking an educated guess as to where he was, Maria changed course and headed for his home office.

Knocking on the door, Maria walked in. As she’d suspected, Howard was sitting at his desk and staring at one particular file in front of him. ‘Did you work it out?’ Maria asked.

‘Yeah.’ Howard looked up at her. ‘If I wasn’t so ticked off, I’d be impressed.’

‘Why?’

‘Because this idiot thought he could peg it on someone else.’ Howard looked back down at his data. ‘Unfortunately for him, money talks. I called this kid’s bank up and asked them if he’d gotten large sums of money into his account recently.’

‘The answer was no?’

‘The answer was no.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘Scanned around a bit more.’ Howard lifted the file. ‘Look at this.’

Maria took the file and looked at it. She quirked an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Good God, the levels some people will sink to.’

***

Howard sat in his office in the Stark Industries building.

There was a knock and the door opened. Maria led in Mr. Anderson and stood aside. Howard looked up as the man strutted in like a peacock. Howard inwardly smirked. Good on Maria; she had called him without giving him the slightest indication of what was going to happen. That was why she’d lasted more than a year.

Howard stood up. ‘Mr. Anderson.’

‘You wanted to see me, Mr. Stark?’ Anderson asked with fake pleasantness.

‘Yes.’ Howard picked up the files which incriminated him and held them up. ‘Do you recognise these?’

The smugness vanished from his face so quickly that Howard would have liked to laugh out loud. ‘How did you...?’ He backed up.

‘“Genius” is not a decorative title, Mr. Anderson,’ Mr. Stark said. ‘I’d thank you not to treat it like one. That money is intended for employees who find themselves unable to work for extended periods of time.’

Mr. Anderson’s expression twisted. ‘Lazy slobs, the whole bunch of them! And you just give that money away!’

‘You stole money from people who need it far more than you do,’ Howard stated harshly. ‘Did you really think I didn’t notice? Even if we didn’t notice the figures, what do you think would have happened the next time we went to make a payout? I don’t care what shitty justification you tell as an excuse, it’s still embezzlement.’

Maria opened the door again, this time letting the two security guards in.

Mr. Anderson spun around. One of the guards walked over and reached for him. As if reacting in a panic, Anderson ducked out of the way. He grabbed something from Howard’s desk. The pen holder toppled from the top of his desk, spilling his pens and pencils all over the floor. Maria gave a cry of alarm as Anderson grabbed her, spun her around, and held the letter opener he’d grabbed to her throat.

Howard’s heart leapt to his own throat.

The guards rounded on him.

‘Nobody move or I stab!’ Anderson snarled, eyes blazing.

Maria, for her part, recovered very quickly. She wrapped her hand around the letter opener, brought her knee up and then brought her heel down right onto Anderson’s toes.

Anderson bellowed in pain and let go of the letter opener. Maria ducked out of his grip and the two guards dived at him. Howard shot around his desk and pulled his secretary back from the embezzler that had just attempted to hold her hostage. As the guards grabbed Anderson’s arms, the stupid man started cussing Maria out.

Howard’s hand curled into a fist. ‘Get him out of my sight,’ he just about growled.

The still-cussing Anderson was dragged away.

Howard turned to Maria. ‘You all right?’

Maria nodded. ‘I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting that is all. You look pretty shaken though.’

Howard gave a shaky laugh and pulled her into a hug.

***

Jarvis walked out onto the patio, where his employer was sitting by the pool. As Jarvis set the tray down next to him, Howard picked up the glass of alcohol. He was still pretty shaken up about what happened at the office the other day. The alcohol calmed his nerves somewhat. Jarvis had learned well by now that allowing his employer his eccentricities was for the best.

‘There is one thing I don’t understand, sir,’ he said.

‘What’s that?’ Mr. Stark asked.

‘Why did Mr. Anderson intend to bring his activities to your notice?’

Mr. Stark smirked bitterly. ‘Because he was going to peg it on one of the interns and use it as a means to get in my good books. He apparently expected me to have never encountered this trick before, or even heard of it.’ He sighed and slumped in his chair. ‘I’ve got to give credit where credit is due, though. Maria was a real trooper in this.’

Jarvis nodded. It was true that his employer trusted Miss Carbonell, and even considered her a friend. His regard for her trumped even that he had once held for Miss Carter.

‘Tell you something, Jarvis,’ Howard said. ‘Since I’ve known her, Maria’s demonstrated that I don’t need to worry about her. I do anyway.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maria's thoughts on feminism in this is partially about exploring the downsides of the feminist movement.
> 
> Confidentiality laws, as far as I know (and could find) are a relatively new thing. So, in the 1950s, an employer could call a bank and get info on an employee's account - say, if a large sum of money suddenly entered the employee's bank account or not.


	4. Dishonestly Honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peg makes a move to get Bucky's blood from Howard.
> 
> It doesn't work because she makes a few oversights - and she's not the only one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, there is a reference to the 1918 Spanish Flu epidemic. I've linked the first of a series of videos on the epidemic:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQ9WX4qVxEo

**Undisclosed Federal Prison, NY, 1955**  
Peggy Carter strode through the corridor.

She’d called in quite a few favours to be able to do what she was doing here. Since Howard had abandoned her and Steve’s legacy, she’d had to work her fingers down to the bone to get even a fraction of the resources she’d had access to before that Christmas in 1947. It drove her up the wall. What drove her up the wall even more was the discovery that Bucky Barnes had gone and given the millionaire a sample of his own blood to continue what he’d been trying to do with Steve’s blood. Peg’s attempts to talk some sense into him, and have him withdraw the blood before Howard could line his pockets with it, were met with dismissal and the statement that she was living proof that classism did not travel in one direction.

As a result, Peg found herself walking down to this particular cell.

The man handcuffed in the interrogation room was clearly of African-American descent. He had been a field grunt, with an imposing bulk and height. He looked up at her with an unimpressed expression. ‘Who the hell are you?’ he asked.

‘Agent Peggy Carter of the SSR.’ Peggy walked over and sat opposite him. She folded her arms and sat back. ‘The word is that you knocked out one of your own and detonated a bomb. What were your reasons for doing that?’

If his reasons were satisfactory, she would follow through with phase two of her plan for this fellow.

‘The shithead was working for the commies,’ he said. ‘But he was white, so of course no one was gonna believe me.’ He held a hand up with a bitter smirk.

Peg nodded. ‘How do you know he was a communist?’

‘He was talking Russian into a long-distance radio,’ the man said.

Peg nodded. ‘I’ve read the report, Agent Fury.’

‘Former Agent,’ Nick Fury said pointedly.

True enough. After his attack on his superior (if a mole could be called that), Fury had been sacked as well as arrested. ‘Would you like to be an Agent again?’

Fury raised an eyebrow. ‘What are you proposing?’

‘Myself, and a number of associates, are willing to send you on a mission, in which you will prove your loyalty or disloyalty.’ If he was lying, then there would be little he could do with what they wanted him to retrieve for them. The risk was minimal.

Fury sat back. ‘And the CIA will agree with this.’

‘They won’t have a say in the matter. This is the decision of a group called the World Security Council. They overrule the CIA.’

‘Never heard of it.’

‘Of course not.’

Fury inclined his head. ‘I’m listening.’

***

 **Manhattan**  
Maria followed Howard through the lab.

While she didn’t understand the exact mechanics of it, she did understand what Howard was trying to do. Dr. Shields had a deep understanding of genetics and biology – as much as could be understood with modern medicine anyway. It was part of the reason that Howard had trusted him with this. The other part was because Dr. Shields was a good enough doctor that Howard’s family had trusted him with their health for years.

‘We’ve managed to isolate the healing agent,’ Dr. Shields was reporting. ‘It obliterated cells for cold and flu, typhoid and scarlet fever, polio, tuberculosis, and even cancer. Since you brought up concerns about latent disease, we managed to secure some samples and run some tests. Unfortunately, as we have no way of knowing if the samples are actually latent until the people they were taken from either develop the diseases or they don’t. So, I sent away for some samples from asymptomatic carriers. The healing agent didn’t seem to react to them either. If Rogers did have latent TB, then I very much doubt the serum recognised it.’

‘So if it activated later?’

‘If it activated later, we have no way of knowing if the serum would have mutated it or not. For all we know, it could’ve been worse than the Spanish Flu epidemic.’

Maria was instantly confused. Howard noticed. ‘In 1918, the Spanish Flu broke out not only in the civilian population but across the military ranks of the war as well.’

‘Both sides,’ Dr. Shields said. ‘A lot of people ended up contracting it before they even ended up on the battlefield. It culled both armies down more than the actual fighting did. The army covered it up, in the interests of morale of course, so the people who did die of it, their families were told they died on the battlefield.’

Howard looked both thoughtful and amused for a moment.

Dr. Shields seemed to pick up on what he thinking of, and snorted in amusement. He took a deep breath and turned around. ‘ _Anyway_ , we’ve started the tests on rodents. In a few weeks, we should know if the healing agent will work on diseases in a living organism.’

‘Good,’ Howard said.

***

The problem with the mission was that most of these guys were white.

However, posing as a janitor had done wonders. Stark didn’t seem to hold the same opinion of dark-skinned employees that everyone else did. And no one looked twice at him. There were a few others around, coloured like him, and all in different positions. Hell, only once he was in did Fury realise that he could have gotten in as one of the scientists on the super-soldier blood project rather than the guy cleaning up the lab.

As the janitor, it wasn’t hard, though, to get into the lab alone. Then he was able to take stock of the security all around the blood. It was good, he had to say. It was very good. He understood why Carter wanted Stark’s tech. The man was a genius and a damn good engineer if this was the kind of stuff he developed. Should be interesting to see what else they could cook up if they managed to drag this guy back in.

Fury took stock of all the security features around the blood and the lab before leaving. He had a pretty good idea what he was going to do with it. They’d be easy to get rid of. All he had to do was to wait until the lab was empty again and then he could get the blood. There was just the matter of making sure the container holding the blood was undamaged.

However, there was one security feature Fury didn’t notice.

After all, CCTV was practically unheard of in 1955.

In the surveillance room, though, Dr. Shields sat with a cup of tea, watching him. As soon as Fury left the room, the doctor tutted.

***

‘So,’ Peg mused at the end of Fury’s report, ‘it’ll be easy for you to get back?’

‘Embarrassingly easy,’ Fury said. ‘All I need is a good compact explosive. Also wouldn’t hurt if we had a way to short-out the tech in the lab. You could cut the power to the generator.’

Peg nodded. ‘I’ll do that.’

***

_‘Hello, this is Miss Carbonell from Stark Industries. We’ve recently had a man of colour sneaking around one of our labs. Mr. Stark is looking for someone to identify him.’_

This phone call was made to several bodies across the US.

Every one of them looked at the photo that Howard had acquired from the footage.

The CIA were the ones to identify him.

‘Nicholas J. Fury. He was, in effect, a foot soldier that imagined himself a spy. He was recently arrested for murdering a superior officer and setting off an explosion that endangered several of his colleagues. He was turned over to the SSR, under the impression that they would hold him until trial.’

Howard pressed his lips together.

Behind him, Jarvis sighed in exasperation.

‘Why did he kill his superior?’ Howard asked.

‘As far as we can gather, he seemed to think his superior was a mole,’ the CIA representative said. ‘We have no evidence to suggest any such thing. He evidently decided to take matter into his own hands.’

‘So...an ends-justifies-the-means type of guy?’ Howard asked. ‘I don’t want an explosion at my factory. There are at least several hundred men working there every day, and a lot of things in there are highly combustible.’

‘Understood, Mr. Stark.’

Dr. Shields rubbed his jaw. ‘In order to take out the security defences...he didn’t seem too worried at any point when he was looking over them.’

‘Yes, former Agent Fury always did have an incredible hubris. He always seemed to think far too much of himself, and too little of those around him. Whenever he knew something we needed, we had to coax it out of him. I think he enjoyed the power he had over us.’

 _Sounds like Peg,_ Howard mused. _No wonder she decided to spring him._

Dr. Shields rubbed his jaw.

‘Got an idea?’ Howard asked.

‘Yeah, I got one.’

***

Later that night Howard, Maria, and Jarvis were in Howard’s home workshop as he ran around a massive glowing blue object.

‘So, you’re not worried?’ Maria asked.

‘Not with what Dr. Shields gave us,’ Howard said. ‘Peg’s just being opportunistic again. She sees someone ready to shoot the rules to hell for “the greater good”, and she jumps on them. Besides, I’ve already called Acer. He’s on his way over. By the time he arrives, we should have Fury tied up.’

Maria nodded. ‘So who’s Peg?’

‘Peggy Carter,’ Howard said, setting up the last of the checks before they ran the test. ‘She works for the SSR. I met her during World War Two. We both worked on Project Rebirth – just she was more on the training side. She had Steve had a...thing. However, after the war she found that she was being dismissed as a capable agent due to her gender. I’m not sure if it existed before, but she adopted an “ends justifies the means” mentality towards her work. It got to the point where anytime she needed something, she expected me to just drop everything and provide it.’

Maria shook her head. ‘You run a multi-million dollar company.’

‘Yup,’ Howard said. ‘She’s also the one who tipped out the first sample of super-soldier blood I had.’

Maria frowned. ‘So...what? She’s trying to screw this up too?’

‘Looks that way.’ He paused, thoughtful. ‘I suppose we could say she wants to be a dictator in a democracy, for the way she acts.’ Howard turned to the control console. ‘Okay, stand back. Let’s see if the vibranium did the trick.’ Jarvis and Maria backed away from the machine and Howard flicked the switch.

The Arc Reactor prototype flared to life.

***

Fury slipped into the lab again.

It was deserted. He walked across to the safe where the blood was kept. He only got so far before the light was flicked on. Fury spun around. The agents surrounding the lab, gun trained on him, were easily recognisable to him. They were the CIA. How the hell did they even find out that he was here?

The footfalls, slow and leisurely, drew Fury’s attention as the head scientist in charge of the project stepped out from behind one of the large machines in the room. There was a medical bag over his shoulder. He pointed. ‘Do you know what that is?’

Fury looked up and saw a small device mounted to the upper wall of the lab. A red light glowed next to what seemed to be a camera lens. Fury had never seen anything like it before.

‘It’s a closed circuit television camera,’ Dr. Shields said, wandering towards him. If he came closer, Fury could get out of this. ‘Mr. Stark has them planted all through his buildings – all of them. It records moving pictures and transmits them back to a receiver in a surveillance room. That’s how we spotted you when there was no one in this lab.’

Fuck!

But Shields was close enough now. Fury flicked his gun out, too fast for anyone to do anything about it and pressed the barrel against his temple. Usually, this was the part where people went pale and started sweating bullets as they became concerned for their lives. Shields, on the other hand, cocked an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, I figured you’d try this.’

‘You want to keep your brains in your head? Then move your ass and open the safe. Then you let me go.’

‘You know what?’

Fury had barely blinked before his mind blanked out.

What had happened, as he’d discover later, too quickly for him to register it before he was one the ground. Shields had thrust a hand up, grabbing the gun and sliding his thumb under Fury’s index finger behind the trigger to prevent him from pulling the trigger. It was a harsh lesson about people with slender digits that Fury would never have the opportunity to benefit from.

Shield then twisted the gun, pulling Fury’s arm and then striking his shoulder in such a way that dislocated the joint. He then brought his knee up into the bottom of Fury’s ribcage, rupturing his diaphragm. Fury had hit the ground, the pain knocking him right into unconsciousness, and Shields had tossed away the gun.

Of course, then he had to treat the damage he’d just caused.

When asked about it later, Shields said, ‘I’m a doctor. I know how to heal, but I also know how to hurt.’

***

There was a knock at her door.

Peggy opened it. ‘Yes?’

‘Margaret Carter?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re under arrest for conspiracy to economic espionage.’

***

Acer walked out of the guarded hospital room.

‘I’ll agree on this,’ he said to the group waiting outside. ‘He likes his secrets, and he’s perfected hiding them. But I still got what I needed to know.’

‘So he was working for Peg?’ Howard asked. ‘She was denying it to the moon and back.’

‘Yes, but it seems her superiors have had enough of her and have sacked and deported her anyway,’ Jarvis said. ‘She’s not allowed back onto American soil for ten years.’

‘He was. Carter promised him a prominent position in some kind of new intelligence agency she was planning,’ Acer said.

‘Where the hell would she get the money and resources to back that claim up?’ the director of the CIA demanded.

Maria looked at Howard. ‘She wasn’t planning on using you for that, was she?’

‘Most likely,’ Howard said.

The director looked disgusted. ‘You’re an arms manufacturer!’

Howard nodded with a bitter twist to his lips. ‘When Peg decides she wants things done, she doesn’t let...ethics get in her way. Hell, she tried to use the Howling Commandos to intimidate me into reviving Cap’s legend for the Korean Conflict.’

‘Really?’ one of the aides asked. ‘What the hell for? It wasn’t a war.’

Howard shrugged. ‘She was sweet on him.’

Acer smirked. It was underhanded to dismiss everything Carter did as “being sweet on Cap”, but frankly she had it coming. She spent so much time convinced she was being suppressed because she was a woman. Well, there was a kind of irony in leading people on to dismiss her because she was a woman.

The real thing was quite different from the perception of it.

The director shook his head. ‘Suddenly it seems that 10 years is nowhere near long enough.’ He nodded. ‘Mr. Stark. Mr. Holmes. Dr. Shields. Ma’am.’ The last one was a polite acknowledgement directed to Maria as she politely stepped out of his way. They watched him head off to deal with other affairs.

‘Well,’ Howard said, ‘what say we go and get some chow? On me.’

‘How about we split the bill?’ Acer suggested.

‘Okey-dokey, then.’ Howard turned. ‘Oh, and Jarvis?’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘See if you can contact Harrison and Amanda Carter. Tell them their daughter is being returned to England.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to MzGreenJeans73 for pointing out that Peg doesn't want to be equal; she wants to be superior - hence the phrase "dictator in a democracy".
> 
> Howard didn't tell about Jarvis's part in the blood incident because he was just giving Maria the overview.


	5. Upon a Spring Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hostage situation brings one important truth to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload. I've had a couple of long shifts recently, but I finished it.
> 
> This chapter operates under the assumption that you have read End of the Hunt and know who these original characters are.

**New York Central Park, 1956**  
Music sounded as the parade made its rounds through the park.

Everyone was out enjoying the sunshine. On a grassy noll, a specific self-made millionaire reclined on a picnic blanket. His personal secretary glanced at him. She honestly almost couldn’t tell if he was asleep or awake, with those sunglasses sitting over his eyes. It was only the pattern of his breathing and the fact that his brow was furrowed, disappearing his eyebrows halfway behind his sunglasses, that told her he was awake.

He was awake and thinking very hard about something that was probably in his lab.

Maria glanced up at movement. 5 year old Leonard Christopher, the eldest son of Howard’s cousin, Jayda, was slipping across the grass. The security detail, which Maria had insisted upon when the press got wind of Howard’s intention to come to the parade, had been formerly introduced to Howard’s British relatives so they knew to let them through the perimeter that had been set up.

Leo suddenly pounced on Howard. The millionaire caught the small boy in midair before he landed on his stomach. The handsome millionaire’s eyebrows lifted and a wide grin spread over his face. ‘I thought you were watching the parade, Leo.’

‘Got boring,’ Leo announced. ‘What are you doing up here, Uncle Howie?’

That was something Maria had noticed. All of the younger kids in his family called Howard “Uncle Howie”, whereas the older ones just called him “Howard”. It was interesting to note the evidence of cognitive development in a family of geniuses as opposed to everyone else. Their intelligence was both impressive and, to the right person, intimidating.

If Howard ever concieved children of his own, they’d be better off _with_ him.

They’d simply be too smart for anyone else to properly care for.

‘Napping,’ Howard said.

‘Leo!’

Maria turned her head and grinned to herself. Ed Christopher, Jayda’s husband, was jogging up the hill to where they were. No doubt he’d been evaded by his genius-intellect son. Maria felt for the members of the family who’d married in. It wasn’t like they didn’t know they were marrying into genius, or what scale of genius they were marrying into, but more the case that they were raising a child, or children, that happened to be far more intelligent than they were. The word “difficult” didn’t even begin to cover it.

‘Hi, Ed,’ Howard said, setting Leo on his knee. ‘Run away from you again?’ He looked down at the boy in his arms. ‘Did you run away from your dad again?’  
Ed fought to catch his breath as Leo eagerly nodded. Ed huffed. ‘Boy, these kids get bored so easily. A parade generally keeps one interested.’

Howard grinned. ‘Then there’s us.’

Leo giggled and promptly hopped off of Howard’s lap to go running off again. Howard caught his wrist though so that Ed could actually catch him. The boy gave a groan of disappointment as Ed picked him up with a “thanks, Howard” and carried him back to the parade. Howard just chuckled and reclined again.

‘Much as I hate to talk about work right now,’ Maria said. ‘What are we doing about Jethro?’

Howard’s brow furrowed again. ‘Hm...’

Alexander Jethro had been a department head who’d been caught embezzling from the company. Technically, he’d been using his authority in his department to get his underlings to do it for him and bribing them to keep quiet. Until he got a subordinate who had immediately gone over his head and reported him. Jethro had been sacked and arrested. He was later released on bail.

That particular department had to be frozen for a few days. Fortunately, Howard’s family was visiting so they were able to weasel out all the co-conspirators in that time while Howard and Maria worked out how to organise the department until those who were let go and turned over to the authorities were replaced. Maria was positive they hadn’t missed a single one.

‘We can’t do anything about it right now,’ Howard told her. ‘We only have to worry about it for a couple of months. My lawyers already have an airtight case against him.’ He grinned at her. ‘It’s a beautiful day, Maria. You should enjoy it.

Maria nodded and smiled. ‘Okay, but one more thing first.’

‘Shoot.’

‘Why is it that your mother’s family are the only relatives of yours I’ve actually met? What about your father’s?’

‘Ah.’ Howard sat up and pushed his sunglasses up on his head. He glanced around. ‘They’re all dead.’

Maria looked at him. ‘All of them?’

Howard glanced around again. ‘Remember when I told you that my dad was a German Jew?’

Maria nodded. It was something she swore never to repeat – to anyone. Though it was ridiculous, the knowledge that Howard Stark was the son of a Jewish man would outrage the prevalantly anti-semetic crowds that Howard seemed to dominate. The knowledge of such information could ruin him. Even now, he spoke quietly and with the knowledge that   
Maria only heard him because she was right next to him.

‘His family didn’t leave,’ Howard said. ‘After I met mom’s family, I started looking for more family members. Every single one of dad’s side of the family was last confirmed to be either in a ghetto or in a concentration camp during the war. Every last one.’

The Holmeses were literally the only family he had left.

It was a wonder he didn’t just move to England.

***

Alexander Jethro glared at his bank statement.

The cops had seized the money he’d appropriated and returned it to Stark Industries – all of it. That, of course, left him in the red. Howard Stark may have been a soft-hearted sap, but he was not an idiot. And he had the best lawyers that money could buy. There was no way he’d get off if he went to court.

There may be another way though.

***

Ruth and Sally June walked through downtown Manhattan. They were out on a last-minute shopping trip before their family headed back to England. The two sisters were chattering amongst themselves as they walked, passing by Howard’s office building on the way to the next shop.

‘I do wish the penny would drop already,’ Sally was saying.

‘Now, now, Sal,’ Ruth said. ‘He traded out observation genius for engineering genius. He won’t notice immediately. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that we have to wait years for the penny to drop. Machines and people are not similar at all. Machines work in a logical way that people just don’t.’

Sally huffed.

Both girls, though, suddenly stopped. They had seen something: a car. A car was parked just off from the Stark Industries office building. It was one of several, but this one stood out to their eyes. The two of them walked over to the car and peered in through the windows. Their suspicions were quickly confirmed. Both lifted their heads in alarm and looked over at the office building. They knew for a fact that their cousin wasn’t inside – but his employees were.

They weren’t surprised, shortly thereafter, to see a whole batch of them rush out.

Most, but not all.

***

A normal day had gone on to prove why some people should never be given bail.

Maria, along with six others, were being held at gunpoint. The gun in question was being held byy a very disgruntled Alexander Jethro. He’d come out of nowhere and fired off several shots. He had several other guns strapped to him so that even if he did empty one gun he had others to fall back on. Unfortunately for her, he seemed particularly focused on Maria and she knew that was not a good thing. If he did pull the trigger, it would probably be on her. Her heart was in her throat, she was sure.

The others were all crouched on the ground. The one other woman in the room was hiding behind the two men who were trying to put on a brave face. They were actually doing rather a good job. One of the other men was cowering back against a desk while another was hiding behind a chair. The final man was cowering on the floor with his hands over his head. Maria herself was on her knees with her hands on her head.

She had a suddenly desire for her boss to be there, but she didn’t know why. The times when he’d pulled her into a post-danger hug, as she’d dubbed them, she had always felt incredibly safe and secure. It was like nothing could hurt her. And she wanted that right now. The reason why hit her in the next moment.

_Oh, joy. I would be the idiot that goes and falls in love with a womaniser, wouldn’t I?_

***

Howard had been called up by Sally before the police rung.

He and Jarvis were already half-way out the door when they called. ‘I know,’ Howard had told the officer on the other end of the line. ‘My cousins are in the area and they saw the commotion. I’m on my way over.’

Howard decided to drive this time, leaving Jarvis to talk to the police over the mobile telephone Howard had rigged into his car. Jarvis was reporting everything back. Howard’s hands were white against the steering wheel. He’d been aware that Jethro had a short temper – that was more than evident when he’d been arrested, the way he was screaming threats of bodily harm at anyone and everyone.

Poor kid that had turned him in had began to quake in terror, so Howard had given him a two-week paid leave. And he was glad he did. Howard’s mind kept turning over. He knew most of his employees by name – he’d made a point of that, making sure they all felt comfortable enough with him that they felt they could ask when they needed something (within reason) – and he was fairly sure that the only guy one his security staff that was trained to handle a gunman was attending a family emergency.

_Note to self: add that into security training._

Howard pulled up at the police barricade. As he stepped out of the car, he saw Acer duck under the tape that kept the crowds back. ‘I was nearby,’ he said to Howard. ‘Heard the commotion, came to take a look. Sally and Ruth told me what was going on.’

No need to ask why he’d been allowed under the tape. Since Acer and Harper had begun to build up a reputation comparable to their father, it’d been shared around law enforcement bodies that they were cousins to Howard Stark. One of those things that didn’t need to be secret but was helpful for cops to know. Of course, he’d probably have gotten through anyway on the grounds of being Acer Holmes.

Harper probably would have to, if she’d been the one nearby. While some were dubious about a woman detective, no one could deny she was good. She could do the job just as well as her brother, with no deviation from the family’s accepted methods, and she never needed saving. Harper was already a role model and an idol to hundreds of girls all across England.

‘Who has he got in there?’ Howard asked.

‘Henry Corden,’ Acer listed the first name.

‘He’s got a family. Has anyone notified his wife?’ Howard glanced around.

Jarvis immediately pulled out a notepad and pencil as the authorities looked around at each other and slowly shook their heads.

Acer went on. ‘James Littleton.’

‘Lives on his own, but he has a nervous disposition. Someone get a drink ready for him when we get him out.’

‘Angela West.’

‘Her mother will need to be called.’

‘Christopher Graham.’

‘He had a heart attack in the past six months. Make sure we’ve got a medic of some description here.’

‘Daniel Norton.’

‘Lives with his daughter and his father. The father’s gone senile and the girl’s still in school.’

‘Jeffrey Underwood.’

‘His family lives upstate but he doesn’t have any wife that needs to be notified.’

Acer paused and seemed to suddenly find his cuticles of immense interest. ‘And Maria.’

For some inexplicable reason, Howard’s world just seemed to stop. When any of his friends ended up in such circumstances, he usually could sit down and focus immediately and find a logical solution. In this case, though, he wanted to run in there, grab Jethro, and throw him out of a window. And that wasn’t logical at all. Howard didn’t know why the urge came to him in that moment.

What he did know was that he had to get Maria and the other six out of there.

Howard took a deep breath, forcing his emotions down despite the tight knot in his throat. ‘What are we looking at?’

One of the officers walked over with a slip of paper. ‘These are his demands.’

Howard took the paper from him and looked at it. There were no words on the paper, just a single number. Beside him, Acer let out a low whistle. ‘That’d be enough for him to leave the country and establish a new identity.’

And that was exactly what he intended.

‘Did he say anything else?’ Howard asked the officer.

‘No, but we must assume he’ll kill the hostages if you don’t meet his demands.’

‘Time frame?’ Acer asked.

‘Unknown.’

‘Which means he probably wants us nervous.’ Acer’s eyes narrowed. ‘He wants his demands met fast.’

‘How long would it take you to get the money?’ the officer asked Howard.

Howard really wanted to think logically, but all he could think of was Maria in there, with a gun to her head. He knew he had to cool down and think of a way out of this. But nothing was coming to him. Internally taking a deep breath, Howard tried to keep his head. He was surprised when Acer answered the question for him.

‘Considerably more time than he’s got.’ He sighed and held a hand out. ‘We’re going to have to move now. Hand me your radio.’  
Though he looked confused, the officer did as requested.

***

Harper led the way in through the back of the building.

The Holmeses scaled the outer wall of the building which faced the evacuated cargo dock. The trick was going to be getting to Jethro without him ever knowing they were there until they had him down. If it was just Maria, this would be a thousand times simpler. She had been shown to have a level head and she wouldn’t be _obviously_ looking at them. However, there were six other people in there with her.

Harper slipped to the room. The door was still hanging open. She slid a hand into her jacket pocket and drew out her compact mirror. While she wasn’t one for make-up and dolling herself up, unless she needed to be somewhere high-class. The compact was more useful for seeing around corners she didn’t dare peek around.

Harper flicked it open and angled it in front of her so she could see into the room. She’d evidently picked a good spot. The reflection showed her at least part of the hostage group, and Jethro himself. He was the only one standing, and he was hovering around Maria. His body language, and his pattern of pacing.

_He knows Maria’s the one Howard’s got the strongest emotional attachment to of all. If anything happens, he doesn’t want to be too far from her. She’s his bargaining chip._

Harper quietly closed the compact and flipped it around between her fingers. She peered through the doorway she’d come to. She met Ruth’s eyes through the slats. Ruth was positioned in the air vent. The eighteen year old shifted the tranq gun in her hands and rested the end of the barrel on the slats of the vent in front of her.

It was the perfect shot.

What they were about to do had a lot of risk involved. But, frankly, as he ranted too low for Harper to hear he waved the gun around enough for her to be confident. None of the hostages would be shot, even accidentally, when contact was made. With that in mind, she made her move.

Harper threw her compact like a frisbee. Ruth soundlessly pulled the trigger. The circlar compact spun through the air with mathematical precision and from the hand of a woman who clearly knew the laws of physics. It swiftly flew into the room and hit Jethro’s gun at precisely the right angle.

Jethro yelled in alarm, and someone else yelped in fear. The gun clattered against the edge of a desk. Ruth pulled the trigger. Before Jethro had time to recover himself, and recover the gun before his hostages fled, the tranq dart hit him in the shoulder. The effects were almost instantaneous.

 _Well,_ Harper thought, _that was a bit anticlimatic._

***

Yesterday, Jarvis had been a bundle of nerves for the seven fellow employees, one of which he counted as a friend, whom Mr. Jethro was holding hostage.

Now, he found himself rolling his eyes in good-natured humour at the article the newspaper had printed on the event. The press had taken an inappropriate amound of interest in the reunion between Mr. Stark and Miss Carbonell. Jarvis didn’t see what the excitement was about. Mr. Stark had hugged plenty of women without any romantic inclinations.

True, his keeping a hold on her hand had been a new one but Jarvis himself dismissed it as a reassurance that his friend was all right after that day. the speculation that there could be romantic relationship Mr. Stark was hiding with Miss Carbonell behind closed doors was simply ridiculous.

The press did, however, come up with all sorts of flights of fancy.

***

Maria went on with her life as usual.

She took breakfast at her favourite cafe. She talked to her friends and she worked just the same as she always had. She ran damage control for the situation which had recently rocked Stark Industries and ignored the fact that she had been in the eye of the storm. She ignored the revelation that she had arrived at during the ordeal.

Nothing had changed.

***

It’d been bugging Howard.

Sure, he liked Maria. She was efficient and didn’t need him every time something needed doing. She was the single most incredible woman he’d ever met. Yet, in that moment he’d been ready to throw the world away for her. He’d been prepared to answer any demands Jethro had as long as she could be safely returned to him. The only things grounding him was the knowledge that his cousins were there to help, and that she wouldn’t like it if he did.

But why did she evoke such a response in him?

Why was it her safety in particular that had made him so willing to cast aside everything?

What could—

Oh.

Oh...

Oh...crap.

Oh, no.

No, that wasn’t possible.

That didn’t happen to him.

That couldn’t have happened to him.

He wasn’t...

He can’t have been...

Oh, shit.

He was.

At some point, Howard Stark had fallen in love with Maria Collins Carbonell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if this feels rushed, but the point was for Howard to realise he was in love with Maria.
> 
> As for when he realises she's Tony's mother...;)


	6. The Greatest Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Maria are caught in an explosion, and suppressed feelings come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm very unsure about writing scenes like this (repressed feelings being bared) so let me know how I went.

**Manhattan, 1957**  
The realisation hit him one day.

Thankfully, while he was in his home office and no one was close enough to see or hear him embarrassingly fall out of his chair with a startled yell – an external reaction to the realisation that had struck him. He’d been sitting there, thinking about Maria again. Over time, he’d become used to the emotions that enveloped his body when he thought of her. And he’d become used to no longer being particularly interested in other women.

Of course, that’d been tapering off for a while now.

The ease in which he added each new notch to his belt had grown dull, whilst Maria’s resistance to his charms was exciting and fun. Then, he’d gone and fallen in love with her. Of course, her being aware of his womaniser lifestyle meant that the one woman he wanted he couldn’t actually have.

What had knocked him out of his seat was a simple realisation. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t seen it before. It should have accompanied the realisation that he was in love with his personal secretary. Yet...it hadn’t. No, for the past year he’d been staring at her, yearning to get up and kiss her, and it had never struck him.

In his defence, he supposed, Maria was a common name and a lot of women had long blonde hair.

He could be forgiven for not realising sooner that Maria Collins Carbonell was going to be Tony’s mother.

***

A large group of people gathered around a table. On the wall behind them, the words “Peace on Earth” were painted in large white letters. The men stood around several photographs and a map of a building. One of them was frowning in concern as the other two spoke of the plan that was being set out.

‘Isn’t this a hospital?’

‘Fortunately,’ another of the men said, ‘their little party will be away from the patients. None of them will be caught in the crossfire. We want a better world, then we have to fight for it.’

‘Why are we starting with Howard Stark, though?’ another man asked. ‘He isn’t as bad as most of them. He makes things aside from weapons. The whole point of this party is to thank him for his contributions to the medical community.’

The second man – evidently the leader – brushed it off. ‘He’s just doing that to distract from what he really likes to do: build weapons to wage wars with. Remember, he started with weapons. He’s just trying to disguise his true passion and make himself look good. Are you going to tolerate that kind of thing? I, for one, am not.’

***

Maria walked into Howard’s wing of the house.

Ever since her revelation last year, she’d been determined to keep things going the same as they had been before. Something had definitely changed, though. He hadn’t had a date in just about ten months. The idea that a womaniser might tire of womanising was a surprise to her. What she was hardly surprised to find was him sitting up on his bed, tinkering. ‘We’re going to be late, Mr. Stark.’

‘Hm?’ He looked up and then glanced at the bedside clock. ‘Oh.’ He rolled to his feet. ‘So, what do you think? Navy pinstripe or simple grey?’

‘Grey. It’s a charity function, not a wedding.’

‘Oh?’ Howard started talking before she finished. ‘I would’ve thought the pinstripe would be better.’

Maria did the same. ‘It’s a hospital, Mr. Stark. Muted colours, please.’

And so it went on.

‘Can I have a darker tie, at least?’

‘Wouldn’t that clash with the grey suit?’ It was good talking like this, these quick conversations. It was work and it distracted her from the feelings that refused to go away on account of Howard Anthony Walter Stark.

Finally, Howard sighed. ‘All right. Give me a few minutes.’

Maria nodded and left the room. Part of her, though, wanted to stay.

What was wrong with her? Falling in love with a womaniser, and then staying regardless of the feelings not fading away.

There had to be something wrong with her.

***

Howard stepped out of the car.

Instantly, the camera flashes went off. Howard flashed what he called his “PR smile” as he helped Maria out of the car. She smiled demurely and followed him down the fenced off entrance to the hospital. She was such a good fit for this life, he wondered why he didn’t just man up and tell her.

_Oh, yeah. Because I’m a womaniser and she wouldn’t think I was serious no matter how much I tried to get the point across that I was._

Ever the gentleman, Howard walked Maria to the front door and into the hospital. They were led into the function room and, almost instantly, Howard was swept up into some business talk. Even though it was a charity event, a large number of certain individuals would take the opportunity to try and get into his good books. It was ridiculous, really, but so were people. So Howard was left to navigate this while Maria seemed to be having a better conversation with some of the nurses and patients in attentence.

Howard was bored. That was it, plain and simple. He could have this particular conversation in his sleep. Generic questions and generic answers. It was clear that this idiot didn’t really know either how to sell himself or his ideas. Sure, he was enthusiastic but he also clearly hadn’t done the proper research. Howard already had his mind made up.

Finally, he managed to extract himself from the man and get to the temporary bar. He found Maria there as well. She looked kind of tired.

‘Was it as good for you as it was for me?’ he quipped.

‘Just had a patient make a pass at me,’ Maria said. ‘What about you?’

Howard swallowed back a wave of anger that came over him at that statement, along with a mouthful of alcohol. ‘An idiot that apparently needs more training before he tries to get out.’

‘Hm.’ Maria sighed.

They were silent for a minute. Howard really would have been happy to stay there like that. But he became aware of a noise. It was a faint ticking sound, barely audible over the noise of the charity gala. The ticking seemed to be increasing in speed. It was vaguely familiar, but it took Howard a moment to register where he’d heard the sound before.

Years ago, while testing a very early prototype he’d discovered the ticking sound. The faster it ticked, the closer the explosion was. And this ticking was fast enough for it to be able to...

Howard didn’t even think about it. He just grabbed Maria and pulled her away from the bar, and the ticking sound as fast as he could.

‘What—’ She began, but she didn’t finish.

_BOOM!_

***

The reporter’s voice was projected over the radio all over the country.

‘Breaking news: just five minutes ago, an explosion was set off in downtown New York. The target was a charity gala hosted by Mr. Howard Stark to raise money for the hospital. A rogue group calling themselves “Peace on Earth” have claimed responsibility for the attack. Just how people who bomb a hospital can claim such a title is beyond anyone’s comprehension. Many have been killed in the explosion, and many more are still buried under the debris of the explosion, including Mr. Howard Stark himself.’

***

That was a sub-par bomb, Howard decided as he pushed himself up. It was uncontained and volatile. As a direct result, this portion of the hospital had seemed to collapse.   
Howard looked around. He seemed to be in a small area that was like a cave with no tunnel. That seemed to be due to several support beams having hit the bar and holding the rest of the debris up.

Howard looked around. ‘Maria?’

‘Howard?’ Her voice was laced with pain.

Howard pushed himself up. He vaguely noticed that he didn’t seem to have anything worse than a few scrapes – a miracle considering how close to the bomb they’d been – and rushed to source of her voice. He had to shove some pieces of plaster off of her and she was blinking but she was still conscious. Howard didn’t even think about it as he slid an arm underneath her and helped her sit up. She winced.

‘You all right?’ Howard asked.

‘I think it’s my leg,’ she said.

Howard reached down and felt along her lower leg. He didn’t know how to explain it but he had the feeling that was where the pain was. As she hissed in pain, he nodded to himself. ‘I think it’s broken.’ He moved off to find something to splint it with. As he did, Maria used her other leg to push herself back until she found a solid surface to rest against.

Neither of them said anything until Howard had bound her leg.

‘What happened?’ Maria asked.

‘Homemade bomb,’ Howard said. ‘A bad one. I heard it ticking.’

‘I wondered what had possessed you when you grabbed me.’

Howard cracked a grin. He moved around and settled next to her. Without really thinking about it, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. It registered only a moment later when she tensed and he was surprised to feel her relax into him. Howard closed his eyes. Okay, so he had a problem here. Maria was supposed to eventally become Tony’s mother, but he had yet to convince her that he did love her.

Part of him wondered if he was just playing a part he’d been assigned.

The other part of him knew that wasn’t the case. Not when he missed her when she wasn’t around, not when she interacted with his family like she was one of them (the cheeky pricks had known long before he did), not when his heart had leapt to his throat when he realised the bomb was there and so close to her, not when his first instinct had been to get _her_ away from it, and certainly not when he really couldn’t see anyone else bearing his child.

That, of course, left him with something of a dilemma. And now they were trapped under debris, sitting and waiting for someone to dig them out. It was really as good a time as any. Howard wondered how he was going to address the metaphorical elephant in the room. Well, it would be if she didn’t look like she was about to doze off.

Howard suddenly remembered what Palmer had once told him: if someone hits their head hard, don’t like them sleep.

Howard looked at Maria’s head. There was a scrape just over her hairline.

With a sigh, he pulled his arm from around her. He was probably about to risk losing her, but he had never been particularly tactful. Maria roused as he moved. ‘Mr. Stark?’

‘Yeah?’ he responded. He had to keep her talking, at least until she could get medical attention.

‘What aren’t you telling me?’

Like the idiot he was, Howard prevaricated. ‘Well, you might be concussed so you probably shouldn’t sleep. But you look like you’re about to nod off and that’s bad. You know I really should—’

There was a sound, though and some of the debris bowed down, falling in fine dust. Not really thinking about it, and more concerned that was a precusor to the whole thing caving in, Howard grabbed Maria and covered her. As he did so, though, his lips brushed over hers. He heard her gasp as his heart began pounding and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. He knew the precise moment she noted his reaction to their proximity, especially considering he didn’t move in inch when the debris stopped falling through the cracks between the two beams.

‘Oh, come on...’ she breathed. ‘You can’t really...’

Almost instinctively, Howard turned his head away as heat rushed up to his cheeks.

‘Howard, you’re a womaniser!’ Maria insisted, her voice on the verge of something between hysteria and disbelief. ‘You have one night with a woman and that’s that!’

Defensiveness rolled in his gut and Howard turned his head, finding his face inches from hers. ‘I haven’t taken a woman to bed in nearly ten months.’ His voice came out far softer than he intended. ‘What do you need? A neon sign?’

Maria seemed to fish for a moment. ‘...Why?’

‘Is that a trick question?’ Howard asked. ‘Come on. Goddamn, I wish my mom was still alive. Then she could tell you that Stark men _grow out_ of the womanising. I’ve outgrown it. Plain and simple.’

Maria shook her head. ‘Womanisers don’t outgrow their behaviour.’ Even as she said it, she sounded unsure.

‘Starks do,’ Howard said. ‘You can call up Aunt Lucy and ask her if we ever get out of here.’

‘But...’ Maria stammered. ‘You’re...’

Howard watched her eyes dart around, lock on his lips and then flash elsewhere. _Oh, to hell with it! I’m screwed anyway!_ With that thought, he leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss. She made a short sound of surprise. Then her hand fisted in her jacket and she melted before tentatively returning the kiss. He smiled against her lips.

It was the sound of voices from outside that drew his attention and he pulled back. He looked up. The debris among them was moving, fine dust falling but most of it appeared to be going in the other direction. Howard moved up to his knees and looked at Maria. She had a hand over her mouth, and she looked extremely conflicted. Maybe she really did need to talk to Aunt Lucy. Can’t have been easy finding out her former-womaniser boss was in love with her.

‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he said, shifting into a less compromising position.

As the rescue crew broke though, and the search lights shone down into the area, Howard scooped Maria up. He smiled to himself as she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to lift her.

***

‘Well, actually, yes,’ Lucy Holmes said on the other end of the line, sounding far too amused for Maria’s liking. ‘I was already married to Howard’s Uncle Lambart when Ainsley started bringing Reg Stark around. At first he was just a friend of hers who happened to be a womaniser, but every single member of the Holmes family, by birth, said he was a specific type of womaniser.’

Maria had realised she’d fallen in love with Howard last year, but she honestly hadn’t expected anything to come of it. But, he had a point. He hadn’t had a woman in ten months thereabouts. When Howard made plays for difficult conquests, he tried for three months at the very most, and he didn’t abstain the way he had for nearly a year. It was just difficult for her to reconcile the idea that a womaniser could stop...well, womanising.

‘Specific type?’ Maria asked.

‘Starks aren’t womanises purely because they are randy,’ Lucy said, ‘although that is certainly a factor. It’s because they view it as a nice logical method, with just the right amount of difficulty, to get their needs met. They may fail rather spectacularly at human interaction, because they are machine-oriented, but they are still human. That’s the same reason Howard womanised. But, over time, this method becomes dull and they seek out a committment. Usually, there’s already one close by.’

‘Me?’ Maria asked.

‘And for his father, it was Ainsley. They often seek out women they can respect, who they know they can rely on to hold down the fort, whatever that may entail. I’d talk to him if I were you. He’s not playing a game.’

Maria sighed and watched as the door opened and Howard walked in. The doctors had dragged him off, despite his protestations, to ensure that he hadn’t been harmed. It turned out her leg was only fractured, rather than the break he’d suspected. But Howard had been more concerned with her than with himself.

Maybe it would do to sit down and talk to him; try to work this out.

***

Jarvis knew that Miss Carbonell lived on her own, so it made sense that Mr. Stark had insisted she stay at the mansion for her recovery period. He wasn’t expecting, however, that when he went to wake her up for breakfast the morning after she was released from the hospital, to see the sight he did.

He knocked on the door and stepped in. ‘Exc—’ He stopped.

Miss Carbonell was not alone in the room.

Mr. Stark was on the bed with her. “On” being the correct word. He was fast asleep, as was she, pressed up to her side with his head resting on her shoulder and his arm thrown across her middle. She hadn’t stirred at all, her nose pressed to the top of his head and her arm draped around his shoulders.

They had obviously not indulged in Mr. Stark’s...preferred bedroom activity. It was as if they had just spent the night talking and fallen asleep curled up together. Quickly, Jarvis left the room and headed to the kitchen where Ana was cleaning after he’d made breakfast. When he told her what he’d seen, he was again surprised – this time by the light smile on her face.

‘It seems Mrs. Lacey was right,’ she said.

‘Mrs. Lacey?’ Jarvis asked. ‘You mean the Holmes cook? What did she say?’

‘She told me that Starks womanise until they’re somewhere in their thirties, and then they grow tired of it and seek a woman to settle down with.’ Ana smiled. ‘I suppose I should have known it was going to be Maria when she first set foot in this house.’

‘How could you have know that?’ Jarvis asked.

Ana chuckled. ‘They’re in tune, like a single soul in two bodies. They seem to understand each other on a level I’ve never seen before. They talk over the top of each other, yet they hear every word the other says. His weaknesses are her strengths and vice versa. Whenever he needs something, she’s there. Whenever she needs something, he’s there. Not to mention the fact that this house has been party-free for ten months. He grew tired of it last year.’

It boggled Jarvis’s mind.

Ana chuckled. ‘I certainly hope they bring children into this household.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason why Peace On Earth attacked Howard is clear as mud - which is a reflection of how I feel about most terrorist groups.


	7. War is Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A disgruntled veteran plots an attack on Howard.

**Manhattan, 1958**  
For the past year, Jarvis felt like he’d been living in an alternate reality.

No matter how often or what anology was used to explain it to him, he just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. When Mr. Stark had taken her out the first time, the press had gone ballistic the next morning. They shared the same sentiment Jarvis initially had: that he was just trying to seduce her. But the months rolled on and, despite allegations, not only did Mr. Stark not see another woman but he also didn’t pay any attention to women who weren’t Maria Collins Carbonell.

It’d been over a year and a half.

Still, he looked the image of a besotted man. Even now, as they worked from the living room sofa, Miss Carbonell leaned into his side with his left arm wound around her waist and his hand resting on her hip as he used his other hand to write something out on the clipboard on his knee. As far as Jarvis knew, the CDC had called and asked him to draw something or other up.

Mr. Stark was certainly more enthusiastic towards the medical and human aid devices he could create over the weapons he was asked to design when wartime rolled around. Miss Cabonell had certainly thrown herself into the charities and aid projects Mr. Stark had long-ago offered her with enthusiasm. She had raised millions and millions for those in need. And not a single cent went into either her pocket or Mr. Stark’s.

Jarvis supposed part of him shouldn’t be surprised. They were both empathic and compassionate people – with one of them being better at human interaction than the other – so it made sense that if Howard Stark would develop romanic feelings for somebody, it would be her. It would always be her.

Jarvis wasn’t optimistic at Ana’s hope for children later down the line, though. Thus far, Mr. Stark and Miss Carbonell, as far as Jarvis could tell, had not engaged in such activities.   
It briefly occurred to Jarvis that Miss Carbonell might have set out a condition before she consented to such an act, but Jarvis doubted his employer would be content to go through the ceremony.

Jarvis shook himself out of such thoughts and returned to his duties.

***

In a club across town, a man sat at the bar.

‘I was in Korea, you know,’ he slurred.

The bartender just stood on the other side of the bar, cleaning shot glasses and nodding along. It wasn’t uncommon for people to sit down and unload on him. The trick was to smile and nod and pretend you actually cared about what they were talking about. That was just want he was doing as this man, with a scar across his forehead said.

The drunk pointed to the scar in question. ‘Do you know how I got this? I got tossed by a mortar and hit a rock. I was out of it for months. I woke up in a ship heading home.’

The bartended nodded again.

‘We gave those stinking commies what for!’ he snapped. ‘But we can’t have done it without them weapons. You know what the best ones were?’ He waited for the answer.

‘Stark weapons.’ Everyone knew that. Howard Stark was constantly being either praised or condemned for making such weapons.

‘Stark weapons!’ The drunk slammed his glass on the bar. ‘They were the best out there, and then the bastard decides to take the things away from us! He goes for all this medicine and relief efforts shit!’

Something he was constantly being lauded for.

‘I’ll tell you one thing.’ The drunk lifted the glass to his lips. ‘I’m not going to let him get away with it. No...you know, I still got the revolver that they gave me when I first went to Korea. It’s a Stark one too. No trouble at all. I wouldn’t just shoot him, though. He ought to know _why_ he’s gonna die!’

For a moment, the bartender was alarmed.

He wondered if he should call the police. Then the drunk downed the rest of his drink, and the bartender remembered he was just that: a drunk. He was just a ranting drunk who wasn’t happy that Howard Stark was backing out of the weapons industry for other venues. He wasn’t really going to shoot the man.

And as if he could even get near him!

***

Howard sat in the den, flipping through a magazine. Every so often, he’d spot something that caught his eye. When that happened, he grabbed a pen and circled it. The feeling he had was that none of these would really do. He wanted something perfect, but he could only do so much. Barring anything else, though, he’d already called up to have the place in Long Island renovated to his specifications. It would take a handful of months before it was ready for moving into.

The sliding doors which Howard had installed, just to see if he could, made the sound of opening. Howard quickly slapped the magazine shut and slid it out of sight before turning back to his mostly-done paperwork. A moment later, Maria walked into the den with a ‘Morning, honey,’ and set another folder on his desk.

‘Morning,’ Howard said. He leaned back with a light smile. ‘That the Morrison job?’

‘Yeah,’ Maria said, moving around and pouring him a cup of coffee. ‘And there’s a meeting with Dr. Kelvin this afternoon.’

‘Afternoon?’ Howard huffed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Why was it scheduled for so late in the day?’ He preferred meetings to be in the morning. That way he could get them over and done with and spend the rest of the day on whatever he wanted or needed to.

‘He’s flown over from Norway,’ Maria said. ‘He arrived last night and you yourself said he’d be jetlagged so he needed to rest to be fully awake for the meeting.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Howard rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Forgot about that.’

Maria smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

Howard grinned and checked his watch. ‘Well, I better go get changed then.’ He stood up and kissed her back before walking out of the office.

Maria chuckled and followed him out.

Sadly, she didn’t follow him up to his bedroom.

***

Alan Makenzie sat in the small apartment that he called home, cleaning his handgun.

With a scowl, he stood and walked to the small dining room table he had in the flat. Spread over the table were several newspaper articles on Howard Stark. But they weren’t just any articles about him. There were no articles on the various prizes he’d won, including a Nobel Peace Prize several years earlier. These headlines all pertained to a specific set of movements that Howard Stark had been making for nearly ten years.

**HOWARD STARK TURNS DOWN DEFENCE CONTRACT**

**STARK INDUSTRIES OPENS NEW DIVISION**

**WEAPONS LOOSING APPEAL FOR STARK**

Makenzie’s eyes narrowed. He had his plan. All he had to do was wait for an opportunity. Then it would be time to exact vengeance. Makenzie ground his teeth as he thought of his isolation in this. No one else had seemed to understand. They hadn’t fought in Korea, like he had. They didn’t comprehend what a sin Stark was committing as he withdrew from the act of arming soldiers on the battlefield.

Makenzie did, and the millionaire would pay for it.

With that resolve, Makenzie picked up his gun and slid it under his jacket.

One article was sitting on top of all the others.

**HOWARD STARK TO MEET DR. R. KELVIN**

***

By the time the meeting ended, the sun was going down.

Howard didn’t personally like Kelvin, but he was onto something good. The man was seeking to research and remedy the long-term effects of head trauma. The preliminary testing he’d already done had shown that the inital effects could just be a sore head or prolonged unconsciousness, with the more serious symptoms, which ranged from mental deficiencies to insanity, could develop later.

All-in-all, a fascinating project.

Maria climbed into his passenger seat and Howard pulled out onto the road.

‘You’re going to agree with his proposal, aren’t you?’ she asked.

‘It’s definitely looking worth the money. I mean, think about it. Hitting your head is pretty common. How many people do you suppose are in mental hospitals getting electrocuted or...’ he shuddered, ‘lobotomised just because they happened to whack their head at some point. If we can develop something that’ll help them, that’ll be money well-spent.’

Maria smiled. She reached down to where his hand rested on the gearstick. She laid her hand on his. Howard’s moustache twitched as his lips turned up in a slight smile. Her fingers curled around his hand. He lifted his thumb and rubbed the backs of her fingers. He chuckled and shook his head.

‘What’s funny?’ Maria asked, smiling lightly.

‘I still can’t believe he called us “the Power Couple”.’

Maria chuckled a bit too.

Howard shook his head again, still smiling. He pressed his head back against the headrest. As it turned out, he had perfect timing too. No sooner did he press his head back than did a bullet smash through his side window and continue onto the front windshield. Maria gasped. Howard instinctively swerved, and promptly lost control of the car. His foot slammed onto the brake. Maria braced herself against the passenger side dash and the door.

The car came to a sudden and jarring stop. Howard glanced over at her. Maria shifted, seemingly all right. Howard twisted around. Despite the fact that it was probably not the brightest thing to do, Howard shoved the door open and got out. But experience had taught him that when people shot at you like that, they liked to spend some time gloating. There was a stinging in his shoulder so he reached back. Probably just a graze.

The road, he noted, was quiet. It was just outside of the residential area too, on the way to his mansion. There would be no one around. There was nothing around but woods. Movement caught his eye and Howard watched, eyes narrowing, as some random middle-aged guy walked out of the woods. He was holding a gun – _One of mine._ – and pointing it right at Howard.

‘Who are you?’ Howard asked, keeping his voice level.

The man scowled. ‘You got any idea what you’ve done?’ he demanded, keeping on moving closer. ‘We need that shit and you just take it away! You got any idea...’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Howard said.

‘The guns, goddamnit!’ he just about screamed.

_Okay, clearly unbalanced._

‘You treasonous asshole! You think you can just take away the guns for a bunch of invalids! What the hell did they ever do! Who the hell do you think you are?’

Howard said nothing.

‘Nothing to say, huh?’ the nut sneered. ‘I guess you know what an ass you are. That’s why I’m gonna shoot you. You’re gonna die tonight and I’m gonna make sure you do.’

Howard was about to reach out and grab the gun. The nutcase was close enough for Howard to either knock it aside or yank it out of his hand. As it happened, though, Maria had slipped out of the car while they were standing there. She had one of his wrenches and she’d come around to bring it down on the nut’s hand.

He hollored in pain. Maria had hit him in exactly the right spot for his hand to reflexively unfurl around the gun. She’d obviously learned that from one of his cousins. It wasn’t something he’d really expect her to know otherwise. The nutcase cussed her out. Howard shot forward and punched him in the face. He kicked the gun away.

The nut spun around and swung at him. Howard ducked the fist but grabbed his wrist. He spun his arm around and pinned it behind his back before shoving him against the crashed car. The other arm flailed and Howard grabbed that. The nutcase began swearing anew and calling Howard and Maria every derogatory name under the sun.

‘That’s no way to talk to a lady.’ Howard then proceeded to ignore him, turning to Maria. ‘You all right?’

‘I think so,’ Maria said. ‘What about you?’

‘Fine.’ He nodded his head. ‘You want to see if the trunk will open. I can’t very well hold him like this until we can get help.’

Maria nodded and moved around. The trunk did come open. Maria then proceeded to pull everything Howard had back there out of it. Between the two of them, they managed to manouvre the violent nutcase they had on their hands into the trunk and get it shut. Howard took a deep breath.

‘Think he’ll be all right?’ Maria asked.

Howard nodded. ‘Trunks aren’t airtight. But they are nearly impossible to escape without the correct instruments.’

‘Okay.’ Maria stepped over and moved into his arms.

Howard sighed and wound his arms around her. He dipped his head and kissed her jawline. Then he lifted his head as she tucked hers under his chin. She’d just had two scares in a row. He didn’t like it any more than she did. And, honestly, assassination attempts didn’t happen all that much so it wasn’t like an embezzler or an attempted hostile takeover.  
She was a pro at those.

‘I love you,’ Howard told her.

‘I love you too.’ He felt her lightly chuckle against his collarbone. ‘Will that be all, Mr. Stark?’

Howard smiled. ‘That will be all, Miss Carbonell.’

***

The police had hauled the still cussing man out of the trunk of the car, kicking and screaming.

A few days later, after it was found their injuries were merely superficial, the officer in charge of the enquiry stopped by the office.

‘Alan Makenzie,’ he told Howard. ‘He was deployed to Korea during the conflict. Just a regular foot soldier, by all accounts. One day, he was thrown by shockwaves from a mortar and landed head-first onto a rock. He was expected to die and was shipped home under that assumption, but woke up on the journey. Afterwards, the only indicator of his injuries was chronic headaches. It seems, though, that he’s been slowly slipping into insanity. He’s been interned at the local psychiatric hospital.’

‘No one noticed?’ Howard asked.

‘His family did say that he had a strange obession with your deviation from the munitions industry,’ the officer said. ‘They didn’t think much of it, though. Yesterday, a bartender came into the station. It seems the night before he attacked you, he’d spoken of his intentions to the man. As Mr. Makenzie was drunk at the time, the bartender dismissed it as simple ranting.’

‘Well, that’s understandable,’ Howard said.

The officer nodded. He left soon afterwards. As soon as Jarvis had shown him out, Howard took a drink of his coffee.

‘Maria?’ he said.

‘Yes?’

‘Call Dr. Kelvin and tell him I’d like to discuss his proposal further.’

‘Yes, Mr. Stark.’

***

 **Two Months later**  
Jarvis was cleaning the den when he found something dropped on top of the papers in the top drawer of the desk. He frowned as he picked it up and looked at it.

It was a catalogue for a jewellers shop in downtown Manhattan.

What was Mr. Stark looking at this for?

Oh, well. At least it explained where the two of them had gone.

***

‘Where are we going?’ Maria asked.

‘If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?’ Howard asked with a wry smile.

‘I suppose not.’ Maria sighed and leaned back in the seat. ‘I like the new car.’

‘So do I,’ Howard said. He suddenly pulled into a parking lot, packed with a lot of other pricey cars.

‘Let me guess,’ Maria said, getting out. ‘High-end clientelle?’

‘This area is a little famous for them, yes.’ Howard nodded his head. ‘Come on.’ He grinned as Maria took his offered arm as soon as he locked up the car and he led her down the street and into a specific jewellers shop. Howard nodded to the salesman and led Maria over to a particular cabinet. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Pick out the one you like.’

Maria looked down at the display. An amused smile began to play over her features. ‘These are engagement rings.’

‘Yes.’ Howard raised his eyebrows. ‘Should I have asked first?’

‘I suppose you were never that traditional,’ Maria said. She looked over the rings again and then pointed. ‘Let’s try this one out.’

The jeweller quickly got it out for her.

***

 **London, England**  
Ever since she’d been shipped back to England, everything seemed against her.

Even the passing of her father had only resulting on her mother cracking down harder on her. She had managed to get a job in the domestic intelligence agency, but she was relegated to desk duties. These people were intentionally keeping information and investigations from her until they were over and done with.

She had tried to break out, but had only been further demoted as a result.

 _‘Miss Carter,’_ her boss had told her on one such event, _‘you may be a fully capable field agent but you have no respect for any authority that is not your own. And with the way you’ve treated even your own allies in the past, we are not taking any chances with you. If you want to advance in this agency, then I suggest you get off of your high horse and do your job properly like everyone else around here.’_

It rankled.

She was a fully capable federal agent – and her own supervisor had admitted it! Yet, she was delegated to paperwork! And she had to put up with all of these empty-headed girls who wouldn’t even know which end of a gun to fire. The sooner she could get back to America, or another country, the better.

Speaking of empty-headed girls...

A brunette rushed up to the girl in the cubicle next to Peggy’s. ‘Did you hear?’ she just about hissed.

‘Settle, petal,’ the girl said. ‘So, he’s as of now permanently unavaliable. It was bound to happen someday.’

‘I know, but he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the world.’

‘I wouldn’t say that. There are quite a few other eligible bachelors.’

‘But none quite as good-looking.’

‘Well, it is what it is. Howard Stark is getting married and that’s that.’

Peg froze at the phrase “Howard Stark is getting married”.

_What’s the punch line?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MaKenzie wasn't trying to shoot Howard in the head - yet. He was actually trying to scare him into crashing and the car was moving slower than he thought.
> 
> I just _had_ to do the Peggy reaction at the end.


	8. Centre of My Universe; Mother of My Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited day has finally arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, the Holmes family tree: https://www.myheritage.com/site-family-tree-495356691/spalding?familyTreeID=2

**Venice, Italy, 1959**  
‘Well, today’s the day, ladies and gentlemen. Howard Stark is officially marrying Maria Collins Carbonell. Miss Carbonell has been Mr. Stark’s personal secretary for several years. As a result of this, there is speculation that this wedding could be out of necessity over anything else.’ The man reporting was standing in front of a barricaded area. ‘You can see the massive crowd behind me, all hoping to get a glance of the bride and groom.’

Sure enough, the crowd was so massive that it was impossible to see the security guards responsible for holding the masses back.

‘When the engagement was first announced, there was much speculation on where Mr. Stark and Miss Carbonell would tie the knot. Many expected him to pick out a famous cathedral. When it was announced they’d be getting married in Italy, as a tribute to Miss Carbonell’s Italian ancestry, many speculated on the famous Vatican. Some even suggested Mr. Stark was eccentric enough to get married inside the colosseum. However, the wedding will take place on the canals of Venice. Still eccentric by all accounts, but also considered by some to be an extremely romantic setting. We’ll have more after the ceremony. Back to you, Jim.’

***

Maria sat in the dressing room.

Her wedding dress was far more fancy and expensive than anything she’d imagined as a little girl. It was silk and lace with a brand new pearl necklace hanging around her neck. That was the “something new”. Berry was currently tying a bracelet onto Maria’s wrist as the “something borrowed”. The door opened and Jayda walked in with a flat case. She opened it up, revealing a silver encrusted broach lined with precious stones. It wasn’t as ostentatious as one would think something like that would be.

‘Here it is,’ she said. ‘Every Holmes bride, or bride marrying a Holmes groom, has worn this on her wedding day.’

‘All of them?’ Maria asked as she carefully took the broach and determined where it would sit best.

‘For the past three centuries, at least,’ Harper said as she slid another bobby pin into Maria’s hair.

As Maria carefully pinned the broach on, and her soon-to-be-in-laws dealt with literally everything else, she considered her groom. At first, Howard was not someone you would have considered husband material. By the time she walked into his life, he was well-known as a womaniser. She had never imagined, in a million years, that she’d one day be here and fully willing to marry the man.

Yet here she was.

She was in love with Howard, and secure in the knowledge that he loved her back. Despite the misgivings of him committing to a relationship, including her own, Howard had proven to be a completely faithful lover. He had rebuffed every woman who’d made a move, whether Maria had been there or not.

And Maria couldn’t see herself growing old with anyone else.

***

In 30 years, Jarvis would compare this to The Twilight Zone.

In 30 years, Jarvis would have grown accustomed to the changes he had recently observed in his employer. He also would understand Howard Stark far better than he did at this very moment. Jim Healey had told him that the servants of the family spent their whole childhoods trying to understand the eccentricities of the family. It was a process that took years and Jarvis, in the grand scheme of things, had only started trying – with preconceived notions already in place that had to be debunked.

Still, there Mr. Stark stood in a suit that was nice even for his standards. He usually only had buttons on his sleeves. In this case, he had a suit that had cufflinks. Those cufflinks he was currently adjusting. For once, his newly trimmed moustache didn’t look like a nest of spiders with very short legs.

‘How are we going?’ Howard asked.

Palmer Holmes checked his watch. ‘Forty-three minutes.’

Jarvis sighed. ‘I still find it hard to believe you’re getting a judge to marry you. Is he actually qualified to do that? I thought only priests and clergymen could ordain marital unions.’

Howard chuckled.

Acer grinned but answered. ‘No, they’re just the most common choice. Due to Howard’s agnosticism, as indeed with all of us, a religious officiator is not so popular a choice. Maria may have been raised Catholic, but she hasn’t been in church since she was a kid. So good luck finding a priest that will marry her to a man who has no intention whatsoever to convert to Catholicism.’

‘There’s probably one somewhere around,’ Mr. Stark said. ‘But we decided it wasn’t worth the hassle looking. Especially not when what the Holmeses have been doing for years works just as well.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jarvis asked.

‘A public servant, such as a judge,’ one of the cousins, James, nodded his head, ‘can solemnise a marriage. This works a lot better for non-religious people who want to get married.’

Hence, why they had one officiating this marriage.

***

Palmer stood next to Howard as the music began playing.

Most people would be expecting him to be getting cold feet about now. But Howard remained in a good mood all day. He knew what he wanted and he was going to marry Maria Collins Carbonell whether anyone liked it or not. The thought almost made Palmer grin. He did have to smile, though, when he saw Maria walking down the aisle and the reactionary grin on Howard’s face as he watched her.

Palmer ran a mental list over what they’d gotten in. Something old: the family broach. Something new: the pearl necklace. Something borrowed: Berry’s mother’s bracelet. Something blue: a hairpin they’d decorated her blonde hair with under the veil. The women hadn’t missed a single thing.

Palmer wrapped his hand around the wedding ring he’d been tasked with holding and grinned over at his sister.

_Nice work, Berry._

***

A long time ago, Mrs. Lacey told Ana that Howard Stark would grow out of his womanising ways and seek a woman to settle down with. It was what his father and grandfather before him had done. And it was now what Mr. Stark himself was doing. Having heard that from an experienced woman, Ana had been far less surprised at the matter than Edwin had been. Their employer was simply following a pattern that ran in his family. Ana smiled from her husband’s side as she listened to the vows.

Soon, she hoped, they would bring a child into the world.

***

The reception, Lucy mused as she sipped champagne, was on par with every one in the family thus far. She kept her eye on Howard and Maria as she sat on the sidelines. It reminded her greatly of Ainsley and Reg’s wedding. She was sorry neither of them were still around to see it. Her mind briefly flashed to the eight family members they lost, but this was not a day to be brooding. Lucy pushed those thoughts aside. The rest of the family had seen this day coming – even those who did not possess the genius-level intellect of their spouses – when they’d first met Maria.

The relationship between the two of them was quite the mirror of the relationship between Reg and Ainsley in the early days. Then Howard’s womanising tapered off before disappearing entirely. So when they went into a relationship, after that bombing, it had really surprised no one – except for Jarvis.

But he was easily surprised, to be greatly honest.

Now they were married, and they were happy.

That was all that mattered anymore.

***

Howard flew away from the reception, grinning as Maria curled up against him as much as was possible in the cabin. 1959 to 1970 was eleven years. Part of him wondered why it would take them so long to have Tony, and worried about it. The other part really didn’t care. Now, at least, Tony would be legitimate and there would be no question on him inheriting the company. And now that he could, technically, have an heir, Howard could start working out all of the legal stuff to ensure Tony, and only Tony could make any alterations to the company if something should happen to himself and Maria.

Howard forced himself not to think of the vision of that night on the back road.

Instead he focused on Maria.

‘You haven’t told me where we’re going,’ Maria said idly.

‘It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?’ Howard lightly responded.

Maria chuckled. ‘I must say, though, I’ve heard of a “just married car” but a “just married helicopter”?’

‘Well, we did get married on the water. To my knowledge, no one’s invented a car that can drive on top of water.’

‘Yes, they have.’ Maria’s voice took on a teasing tone. ‘It’s called a boat.’

Howard laughed right along with her. ‘Okay, okay. But...well, we have to go overseas anyway.’

‘And then the rest of our lives?’

Howard smiled. ‘Yeah, honey. Then the rest of our lives.’

He felt more than saw Maria smile against his arm. ‘Will that be all, Mr. Stark?’

Howard grinned, getting an odd sort of thrill out of his next words. ‘That will be all, Mrs. Stark.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next installment will arrive in the coming weeks, but I'm not sure exactly when.


End file.
